


Playing Off Him

by LensMind



Series: Acting Up [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Jean Has a Potty Mouth, M/M, May contain spoilers, Rating May Change, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 67,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LensMind/pseuds/LensMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's big break comes in the form of his dream movie role. It's action packed, adventurous, full of explosions and stunts. Things don't turn out exactly how he imagines when he meets his co-star, Marco. Suddenly, it's a lot harder to deal with this job than it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Break

**Author's Note:**

> **Note: This work belongs to me, please do not copy/dublicate.**

Strangely enough, the first time we met wasn’t the first time we met, and I only realised that a good deal after becoming closer to him. However, I’ll start from this forgotten first meeting. Though, I’m not doing it for continuity’s sake or anything, it just so happens that it’s actually an important point to start from… Oh, whatever, you’ll understand. 

I was getting the 545 bus through the city centre, since my mum decided to send me on a last minute shopping trip before everything shut. She needed some more milk, and apparently the ones at the local post office ‘weren’t organic enough’ or some shit. Anyway, late night busy journey. It was dark, and I was more than a little pissed off. Plus, my headphones had caved in just that morning, so I couldn’t even listen to my music. Tossing the fare at the driver, I immediately grimaced at how packed the bus was. Of course it was rush hour. Just my luck. The only spare seats were next to people, and I had the choice between a snoring old guy, a bratty teen who was talking loudly into her phone, or a freckled guy with a hat. 

Freckled guy with a hat it was.

He moved his bag for me as I awkwardly stood waiting in the aisle, and so I sat down without a word and immediately pulled my phone out. If I couldn’t listen to music, I could at least play on angry birds or something. He’d given me a friendly enough smile as I’d sat down (one that I didn’t return) and returned his attention to the scenery passing by. We stopped at the supermarket fifteen minutes later so I hurried off the bus. I was quick enough in finding the milk and buying a bottle of pepsi (for my sanity), and soon I found myself waiting at the bus stop once again. 

It was at this point that someone tapped my shoulder. 

“You’re from the local college, right?” said some woman. She wore this smile that pretty much scared the hell out of me. 

“Yeah?” I couldn’t help leaning back a little. 

“I thought so!” She began rummaging through her bag and suddenly shoved a business card in my face. “My name is Hanji, you have officially been scouted!”

Now, this would probably have freaked the hell out of me if I wasn’t studying drama and somewhat recognise this chick from our showcase last Friday – the same showcase I’d had to hurry home from since my idiot father had tripped had broken his foot.

Long story short, that’s how I ended up on the books of the Recon Corps Agency. If you forget the fact that all the agents are fucking mental cases and the other actors working with them are mostly arrogant idiots, it’s a pretty good gig. 

***

Two years later, and I’m sitting on the couch in one of the agency’s break rooms, playing poker with three of the other actors in the Corps’ books.

“Kirschtein! Get your ass over here already!” Levi’s damned voice orders from the corridor. 

I groaned and put my cards down. “I’m out anyways,” I mutter. It’s not like I was going to win with Armin playing anyway – the guy can’t bluff to save his life, yet he still’s the unbeaten champ somehow.

I hurry out the room before Levi has to yell again (every actor here learns to be quick on their feet after their first scolding from the short-arse). 

“Here,” He shoves some papers into my hand without saying what they are. I don’t even have time to give the two strangers with him a glance before he starts to talk again. “You got the job.”

“W-what?” I immediately start scouring the paper for a further explanation. 

“I’ll get Hanji to talk you through the contract later,” Levi continues. “This here is–”

He carries on talking but I’m completely out of it. The audition process for a film called ‘Humanity’s Last Hope’ started over two months ago. It was an action-adventure movie about a small group of soldiers. There’d be a ton of fighting, explosions and big dramatic scenes: exactly what I wanted in a film. And I’d only gone and snagged one of the four leading roles? My first big role since getting into the business? This was literally a dream come true. 

“So I’ll leave you to it.”

When I looked back up from the paper, I realised Levi had finished talking and was starting to walk away. Leave what to me? That was when I noticed there were still other people standing with me.

The first was a woman who just smiled at me. Just smiled. Continuously. Like she was expecting something from me. The second, a dark-haired guy. His face was littered with freckles, and he also just smiled. His eyes watched me more carefully than the woman; he seemed to be taking me in.

My lips twitched into a nervous smile as I realised they were still waiting for me to do… something. The stream of curses than ran through my mind at that moment were extremely colourful and inventive compared to normal. 

Who were these guys? Please, god, don’t let them be the directors or producers – that would be the worst possible outcome. They both looked too young for that though… right?

The guy took a deep breath and shuffled a little, like he’d noticed my silent confusion. He stretched his hand towards me. “Marco Bodt, I’m playing Sole. Nice to meet you.”

Sole… Sole… Sole! Private Christopher Sole, one of the other mains! Hallelujah! 

I clasped his hand, deciding that I thoroughly respected this guy for bailing me out, even if he hadn’t meant to.

“Jean Kirschtein,” I nodded. “Playing Jake Banner.”

So this was one of the guys I’d be working beside soon. He seemed like a good guy. Looked a little too sweet and innocent to play a soldier, if you ask me, but I’m sure he’d surprise me. 

It took me quite some time to realise I was still holding his hand. 

I immediately let go, laughing as naturally as I could (which, let me tell you, was not very natural). 

“Well, I can see where I’m not needed,” the woman chuckled. She nodded politely at me before turning and giving Marco a pat on the arm. “I’ll call you later, ok?”

“Sure thing,” Marco agreed, before waving as she vanished down the hall. I waved along with him, since it felt like the well-mannered thing to do – even if I still had no clue who the hell she was.

“That was my agent, Mina.”

I glanced at Marco. So, he really had noticed that I’d paid no attention to Levi’s ramblings earlier. I felt my cheeks heat up. 

“Y-yeah… thanks…” 

Cue next awkward silence. 

“You’re not with or agency?” I asked. I really hoped he wasn’t – though I doubted I could make myself look anymore stupid right now.

“I’m with Garrison,” He still wouldn’t wipe that damn smile off his face. “Mina suggested that I come introduce myself, since we’re going to be working so closely.”

Was the ‘so closely’ really necessary? I suddenly felt like I’d have to seriously look into what little information on the film I had. Still, I was pretty glad. 

“Yeah, that’s cool.”

Cue yet another awkward silence. 

Marco rubbed his neck, still smiling. “So, do you have time to go get a coffee or something? I just figured it’d be nice seeing a familiar face when we start work… It’s my first job…”

“First job ever?” 

“Yeah…”

I stared at him. This guy must seriously be a hidden talent or something; my first job was as a member of a crowd in one episode of some crappy soap. Pushing the surprise off my face, I shrugged. “Sure, sounds good. There’s a great place a few streets down, if you want to go there?”

“Great!”


	2. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee is great and so is Marco's smile. Also, Jean is weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, don't get too excited about how fast I'm updating... Jean just has a lot to say right now.  
> Please enjoy!

Coffee was great. More than great, coffee was the best damn coffee I’ve had in a long time. After the first ten minutes that were kind of uncomfortable, the two of us seemed to ease up. I hadn’t even noticed Marco had been embarrassed until he’d mentioned it half way through his drink. He’d been nervous about meeting his co-stars, mainly me since our characters had the most interaction together (which was news to me: I really needed to look into this film a little more). After a little longer, we were laughing and chatting away as if we’d always been friends. It felt so natural to be myself around him, even though I couldn’t even be like this around Connie or Sasha. 

After two whole hours of sitting at that small table, knees pressed against each other as we ignored the busy café around us, my phone begun to ring. I’d never noticed how harsh my ringtone was until it interrupted Marco mid-sentence. 

Shooting him an apologetic glance, I pulled it to my ear. 

“Jean, where the hell are you?” Connie’s voice barked. “You better not have bailed on Sasha and me!”

“Shit, sorry man. I’m just a street over,” I glanced up at Marco’s patient smile and felt a twang of regret that I’d have to leave soon. “Can you guys wait a little longer?” 

“You’ve got the car! And the supermarket closes early today!” Sasha’s voice shouted. Great I was on speaker, which meant every person still in break room would hear me. I wouldn’t have minded telling Connie and Sasha to give me longer – my flatmates could be at least a little understanding – but I’d rather not announce to the whole of the Corps that I was on a date with the coolest guy ever. 

Wait… did I just call it a date?

Yeah, no, it wasn’t a date. Just two guys, who’d be working together soon, hanging out and getting to know each other. Not a date. 

Looking back at Marco again, I realised he was stirring the cold dregs of his hot chocolate (yeah, that’s what he’d ordered). He seemed a little reserved all of a sudden. 

It took a moment, but he lifted his head to meet my eyes and I mouthed ‘sorry’. 

Why should I be sorry? We’d been here hours. There was nothing to be sorry for. 

I was sorry though. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, meet me at the car,” I muttered back to the two idiots. I hung up immediately and shoved my phone back in my pocket. Marco smiled yet again. If it were anyone else, I’d probably get seriously pissed at them for smiling so much. But I just couldn’t with Marco. It suited him too well. “Sorry, my flatmates are complaining that I’ve abandoned them.”

Marco waved away my apology. “Oh, it’s fine! I should probably be getting back home too.”

“Do you want a ride?” I asked, my mood lifting again as I offered. “Maybe we’re going the same way?”

“Ah, I’m right on the city outskirts.”

“Oh, I’m just over by the park…”

“That close?” Marco asked in surprise.

I laughed. “We have to do a food shop today, and, well, my flatmates are pigs.” 

Marco chuckled along with me and then asked to exchange numbers. He almost seemed to be bouncing as I typed my name and number into his phone, and gave me yet another one of his grins when I handed it back. We’d paid at the till, so we headed out of the café together. I barely noticed that we’d been there so long there’d been a staff rotation. Standing on the street, we said our goodbyes and headed out separate ways; Marco to the bus station and me back to the Corps building to pick up my two pains-in-the-backside.

By the time I reached the car park, Connie and Sasha were already leaning on the car waiting. I didn’t feel like giving them a particularly friendly greeting, and didn’t say much at all as we clambered in and set off for the supermarket. I think Connie mentioned something about celebrating my first main part, but I was too preoccupied thinking about Marco and hoping they wouldn’t try to cover up his freckles for the film…

…which was probably a really weird thing to be thinking about.

After a hectic hour and a half spent trying to buy a decent range of food for the flat and stopping Sasha from getting nothing but junk food, we pulled into the underground parking lot of our apartment building. It wasn’t anything special, but I suppose we were lucky to get on a decent paid contract so we could afford a good place like this. After the elevator took us up to the fourteenth floor and we’d hurried down the corridor to flat 148, we were all exhausted from hauling the abundance of shopping bags around.  
Naturally, I was left to put everything away since Connie collapsed on the couch and immediately turned the football on. Sasha tried to help, but since she was just eating everything she pulled out I sent her to go sit with Connie. 

Since our schedules never synced when we were working, the three of us agreed to at least eat dinner together on the days we had off. Connie was currently working on a TV series – not a main part, but he was at least a regular, but the show was having a break in filming right now. Sasha had landed a pretty good role in a comedy, and had just finished filming. It would be me who was working most next, it seemed. 

As the three of us lounged in front of the TV, bowls of fried rice balancing on our laps, they caught me up on what had happened at the Corps after I went off with Marco. Turns out one of the other leads in Humanity’s Last Hope (the main main character, at that) had been snagged by none other than Eren fucking Jaeger. Of all people to work with, why did it have to be him? 

Whilst the two of them washed up (and made a huge mess in the kitchen with the damn soap), I rang Hanji and asked her to send me over all the information on the movie. I got the email almost immediately. Thank god for dedicated agents – even if they did act like they belonged in a mental asylum half the time.

Jaeger’s character, Nicholas Frost, was the young, overly-determined protagonist who wanted to be a hero. Ha. No wonder he got the part. There was one other member of our ‘team’; the boss and father figure who ended up betraying the three of us, and then the female lead who was Frost’s girlfriend back home. 

And mine and Marco’s character? The only words I can use to describe them would be ‘best bros’. The list I was given described the other leads in great detail – their back-stories, their personalities – but it wasn’t like that for Jake Banner and Christopher Sole. Their descriptions revolved around each other; how they met, what they thought of the other etc. I didn’t have the script yet, but I could already foresee all the soppy friendship moments that these two would have. 

And I wasn’t that bothered, to be honest. In fact, I found myself smiling as I read it. 

“Like your character then?” Sasha asked as she fell onto the sofa, pushing herself close to me so she could read too. I just gave her the sheet, since Connie arrived and wanted to see as well. 

“Yeah, he seems cool.”

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I grabbed it a little too quickly for Connie and Sasha not to notice. They were no longer interested in the paper, and flung it aside haphazardly, crawling towards me as soon as I started to get off the couch. 

“And who’s that?” Connie crooned, wrapping his arms around my neck. 

“You seem very excited to check it!” Sasha sprawled across my lap, grabbing at my phone as I desperately kept it out of her reach. Sure enough, the number on the screen was one that wasn’t in my contacts. 

“Get the hell off!” I snarled at them as I tried to wriggle away. I ended up face down on the floor, the two idiots piling on top of me and fighting for my phone. By some miracle, I got away and managed to get to my bedroom in time to lock the door behind me. 

…Not that I wanted to keep the text a secret, or anything! It’s just I liked my privacy…

Opening the text, I felt my lips widen into a smile as I read it. 

_From: Unknown  
Hey, it’s Marco! Thanks for today, we should do it again sometime :)_

Of course he put a smiley face. As if he wasn’t already cute enough. 

… And by cute, I just meant unmanly. 

_To: Marco Bodt  
yea definitely. i got the character info just now. think we should go through it 2gether?_

I sat down on my bed, staring at my phone until it buzzed again with his reply. 

_From: Marco Bodt  
That sounds great! Sometime this week, when you’re free?_

_To: Marco Bodt  
hell yea. i’ll find out when i’m free and let u kno_

 

We didn’t meet up that week. 

Or the week after that, for that matter. I got to the agency the next morning and was immediately whisked away by Hanji. Every day it was contract discussions, or schedule information. Then it became meetings with the directors and producers, measuring for costumes. My only free time was spent shovelling reheated meals down my throat (thank you Connie and Sasha, you understanding bastards) and then falling unconscious the moment my head hit the pillow. Rinse and repeat. 

Marco seemed to have the same problem, so after the first week we gave up apologising to each other about our suddenly busy lives. We texted a lot – there wasn’t time for calls – and I found myself checking my phone at every spare second. By the third week, I was starting to feel Marco withdrawal symptoms. Which was fucking stupid, since I’d met the guy once. 

I clambered into one of the company cars with Hanji, Levi and Eren. I’d been pretty lucky to avoid Jaeger for these past few weeks, but now I supposed I’d have to get used to seeing his ugly mug more often. 

As soon as the car started moving, Eren smirked. “I’m so glad you’re on this movie too, Jean. I was getting nervous that I wouldn’t know the horse I was riding.”

Yeah, I wasn’t going to get used to seeing his ugly mug.

The car pulled up at the studio, and we piled out – Hanji rambling on excitedly about her ‘boys going off into the big world’ or something stupid. I didn’t listen, since there was a small group of people gathering around the entrance, one of whom I recognised. 

“Jean!” Marco called when he spotted me. A huge smile plastered over his face, and I realised just how much I’d missed it…

…You know, after the one time we’d hung out. 

“Ah good to see you all,” smiled the director, Dot Pixis. We exchanged a few words in greeting, and he introduced us to the people around him – though they were all producers I’d met previously. When he begun chatting to Hanji and Levi, I was able to turn my full attention to Marco, who still hadn’t wiped the grin off his face. 

“Feels like forever, huh?” he asked with a laugh. 

“You could say that, yeah,” Why the hell was I feeling all gooey? “Mina not around?”

“She was here before, but she other things to do today.”

“Oi, Jean,” Every word out of Eren’s mouth made me want to punch him. I turned, any hint of a smile dropping from my features. He stood expectantly, looking between me and Marco. “Who’s this?”

Marco held his hand out. “Marco Bodt, playing Sole.”

“Oh!” Eren shook his hand, much friendlier than he’d ever been with me. “I’m playing Frost. Eren Jaeger.”

I sort of felt like I wanted to drag Jaeger away by his neck. 

Pixis asked us all to follow him inside, and Eren was suddenly dragged away by his collar (that was the moment I decided I really like Levi). Marco smiled again and we headed in together.


	3. First read-through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean has nothing but totally straight thoughts. Oh, and they do some movie stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waa, thanks for reading everyone! I'm super glad you're enjoying it!  
> I swear I didn't plan for these chapters to get longer and longer. It just happened!  
> Since I'm working on the next chapter now, I can already promise that chapter 4 is when stuff really gets going. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> (Also, there is/will be a few embarrassingly ironic manga spoilers in places over this story, so I apologise for that in advance)

“Dude, tell me that’s not Christa Lenz?”

Marco looked up from the script and across the table at the blonde haired beauty that had just sat down beside Eren. Jaeger looked shocked enough that I had to smirk; though, it was fair enough since one of the biggest new names in the business was sitting beside him. Reiner Braun – the guy playing the fourth member of our team, Vincent Thwaite– looked just as flabbergasted as he spotted her. 

“Yikes,” Marco whispered. “Didn’t expect to see her.”

The two of us were sitting opposite the other three – the main crew and some of the other cast sat around the large meeting table getting ready to read through some scenes. It was basically just a chance for the crew to start understanding what we were doing with the main characters. The costume designers were sitting at the end, already scribbling down notes on paper. It was weird, since they kept looking at us and muttering amongst themselves. 

“Eren’s a lucky sod,” I grumble, looking back at the script. “Getting to make out with one of the hottest girls the big screens ever seen.”

“Mhmm.”

I leaned my head on my head, propping my elbow on the table, and watched him carefully. In comparison to the two weeks where I hadn’t caught a glimpse of him, our schedules implied we’d be around each other a hell of a lot more. I hadn’t done much to hide how glad I was after learning that fact which, looking back, was embarrassing. 

“Why do I feel like you’re a lot less bothered about this then I am?” I asked, nudging him in the side. He flinched and gave a small snort of laughter (ticklish: noted). 

“That’s probably because I am a lot less bothered.” He leant on his hand too, smiling at me strangely. I couldn’t help but feel he was trying to imply something, and once it had occurred to me, I widened my eyes and gave an involuntary ‘Oh!’. 

He went on to giggle… a lot, whilst I turned bright red and stuttered out something along the lines of ‘I’m so cool with that I’m ice... I mean, you know… freezing cool… not bothered’. We got quite a few curious glances from around, as my mouth continued to run until Marco was clutching his stomach with his forehead on the table. I soon joined him, dropping my head to the table in utter shame as Eren started attempting to ask what was wrong with me. 

I couldn’t have been more grateful for Pixis to start the customary introductions before we started the read-through. 

The scenes we were doing some one of the earlier ones in the film, just before our squad headed out on the mission. Christa and Eren started it off, being super soppy about how they’d miss each other, and made each other promise a whole host of things. From there, there was a quick scene change to mine and Marco’s first introduction. It was going to be just the two of us sitting on our bags, waiting to get moving whilst the rest of the squad hurried around us. Weirdly enough, it had the same atmosphere as the one Eren and Christa had just read out. Our characters cracked a few jokes, immediately clarifying that these two were pretty much a married couple minus the romance.

“It’ll be fine,” Marco’s character said after the two of us had fallen into a strange silence. Sole was clearly the more level-headed of the two; reassuring and thoughtful, the type of guy who seems to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but is actually quite reserved around people. 

Banner, for all the confidence he seemed to have, was quite a self-doubting guy once you got under his skin. That’s probably why the two worked so well as a duo: they understood one another. 

“Yeah, ‘course it will,” I scoffed. I turned the page and continued the line. “And I’ve got your back, so you don’t need to get yourself all worried.”

“Who said I was worried?” Marco wore the same soft smile he always did, and it carried on his voice. It suited the character perfectly. 

“You’re scratching your arm.”

That was the moment that Renier’s character appeared to interrupt the two, and suddenly the film sped up. 

They ended the script reading ten minutes later, and the crew started working on their notes. The directors had advice for the cast, and the writers wanted to make a few minor changes after hearing us speak. The costume designers were in a flurry of excitement, and hurried off as soon as they were allowed. By the time everyone was finished, forty five minutes later, I was feeling pretty damn confident about the whole thing. 

Stretching as we left the meeting room, I looked over at Marco at the two exchanged content smiles. Christa and Reiner laughed at something Eren said, and he threw his arm around my shoulders. 

“You sure surprised me in there, Kirschtein,” he said. “I’m looking forward to this film even more now!”

“Get off,” I growled, pushing him away roughly. Then added, “You weren’t so bad, I guess,” in a much quieter voice. Eren heard anyway and looked terribly smug. 

The five of us lingered in the studio’s foyer for quite a while. Christa was picked up by her bodyguard – a tall woman who seemed immediately suspicious of us boys and wrapped a protective arm around the blonde before steering her towards a car outside. Renier vanished a little later, though he went back into the studio since two of his friends worked there. That left just Eren, Marco and myself, and thankfully Levi appeared in all his glory (which I was starting to respect more and more recently) and dragged Eren off somewhere. 

And then I was hit by a sudden wave of awkwardness. 

Which was stupid.

“Good work today,” Marco said as he turned to me. “You were really good.”

“You too.” I’m sure I would have sounded more upbeat if I wasn’t busy trying to work out why the hell I felt my ears heating up. 

It didn’t make sense; how one minute we’d be laughing and getting along like a house on fire, and the next there’d be this strange silence hovering around us. It made me itch to do something, but I had no idea what. 

“Hey,” My voice spoke on its own. “You doing anything now?”

This goofy happiness appeared on Marco’s face. “Not really.”

“Want to grab dinner?”

“Sure.”

The two of us grabbed a cab back to the city, and wandered along the main streets looking for a decent place to eat. We decided on a small pizzeria that Marco said was fantastic (which I soon discovered was true, after I took the first bite of my pepperoni and immediately fell in love), and I found myself sinking back into comfortable conversation with him.  
We talked about quite a lot as we ate; mainly our backgrounds and I discovered he’d only moved to the city a few years ago. I pushed him further, asking him about the village he used to live in and his life before acting, then just relaxed. His voice, his constant smile, how he’d get totally carried away when telling a story, it was all just Marco, and somehow that fact wrapped around me like a fuzzy warm blanket…

…in a totally none-weird, none-creepy, just really good friends kind of way. 

I blinked. No longer paying attention to the time Marco’s pet cat had snuck into the washing machine, and instead tried to analyse just what the fuck was up with my inner monologue today. It suddenly came to my attention that I had forgotten about my pizza and was just leaning forward, listening to this guy with a stupid smile spread across my face. 

“Jean?”

He totally said my name in the cutest…

…yeah, I needed to stop. 

Marco was looking at me with concern, which was probably the right reaction. I just sort of stared back for a moment. 

“Sorry… what?”

Seeming a little thrown at my sudden attitude change, Marco tilted his head. “You just seemed a little… out of it.”

“Oh?” I let out a painfully fake laugh. “Sorry, I… must be tired.”

He needed to stop staring at me. I felt like I was burning up under those eyes and I didn’t know why. 

“Do you want to head off?”

“No!”

Marco straightened his back. He looked as surprised at my outburst as I did. I had a terrible feeling my cheeks were starting to redden now. Trying to laugh away the problem (because that always works…), I desperately tried to find something to say to make this even slightly less awkward. 

“Do you want to come back to mine?” I asked. “Just f-for a drink, or something, I mean!”

He smiled, though it was shyer than usual. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You wouldn’t be a bother!” I assured him. “My flatmates, they’ll be a bother, but… you totally won’t be…” 

I was doing a really good job of making myself look like a fucking idiot. Yet, I didn’t really care, because Marco looked happier than a little kid who’d been given the key to Disneyland. And just like that, I was paying the bill (Marco insisted we split it, but I told him to shut the hell up), and then we were wandering through the darkening city streets towards my apartment. 

We didn’t rush back home despite it being a little chilly out, and we didn’t try to force a conversation either. The walk was pleasantly quiet; our shoulders knocked against each other we walked so close and Marco smile was always sitting on his lips whenever I glanced over at him. It didn’t fade once. Neither did mine, for that matter. 

In fact, by the time I was unlocking my front door, I felt like I was on cloud nine. 

That is, until I remembered who was waiting on the other side of the door. 

“Jean’s back!” 

I came to a horrified stop in the doorway. I knew exactly what that slur in Sasha’s voice meant. 

“Jean, baby! Congrats on being a movie star!”

Sure enough, my housemates stumbled out of the living room and into the corridor. Their faces flushed and bottles of beer in their hands. Sasha sprinted forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a horrifically sloppy kiss on my cheek. Connie stood still, pointing at Marco with panic-striken eyes. 

“Burglar!” he screamed. Sasha screamed with him, and the two ran straight back into the living room. There was a chorus of laughter, which meant that we had guests. 

Fuck. 

Of course those two had chosen today to hold my ‘big break celebration’ then forget to let me know about it. I suppose I had to admit that I usually came straight home after work, but it still pissed me off. As Armin stuck his head into the corridor, he seemed to catch on to the situation immediately upon seeing Marco standing behind me. 

“Yeah…” he began with a sympathetic smile. “I’d suggest not bothering with coming in here. I was about to take the others home anyway; they all drank too quickly, too early.”

There was a loud smash from the living room, followed by a loud cheer. Armin’s smile tightened a little as he glanced back over his shoulder. 

“… Mikasa and I will tidy up a little before we head out. But best stay clear.”

“Staying clear,” I immediately agreed, motioning for Marco to follow me into the flat and towards my bedroom. Judging by how quickly Armin shut the door to block my view as I passed, I didn’t want to go in there even if the lovely Mikasa was around. 

It was only when I was twisting my bedroom door handle that I was hit by a sudden panic, and for the first time since moving in, I thoroughly regretted renting a flat that only had one communal area. I pushed the door open slower than I probably should have, just so I could check how messy I’d left it this morning. Thank god I’d been too busy to do anything in here but sleep these past few weeks. 

“Sorry about the laundry,” I said as I let Marco in, glancing at the pile of washing in the corner. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the laundrette recently.”

“It’s fine,” Marco assured me. “My room would be a lot worse than this if I had sudden guests.”

Suddenly, with him standing in my room, I had no idea what we were supposed to do. The TV (and pretty much everything I owned) was in the living room. I threw myself down on the bed, propping the pillows up behind me so I could lean against the wall with comfort, and told him to sit his backside down if I didn’t want his legs getting tired. He seemed relieved for the instructions, and took his shoes off before sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bed. 

“Hey, is that an old Gameboy?” He suddenly announced, glancing across at my desk.

“Yeah,” I smirked as he jumped up to go get it. “I used to collect them. There’re like four more in the top drawer.”

“You collected Gameboys?”

“I wanted to trade Pokémon!”

“With yourself?” 

“Well yeah, my abundance of friends didn’t feel like it.” I stuck my finger up at him as he laughed a little too hard at my sarcastic comment, and suddenly he was sitting back on the bed, tossing my yellow Gameboy at me. 

“Well, let’s see how bad you were at these games, shall we?” 

A little later, there came a monstrous amount of noise from the corridor as Armin herded the few guests out of the house (who, judging by the voices, consisted of Eren, Mikasa and himself), and shortly after that came the slurred grumbles of Connie and Sasha as they each traipsed to their bedrooms. Perhaps I should feel bad having missed (and then avoided) my own party, but honestly, I was much happier sitting back to back with Marco, trading and battling pokémon.

And at some point or another, I stopped trying to tell myself that I was only blushing because I kept losing.


	4. Floored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean struggles with the terms literal and metaphorical, and Marco is a cutie pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you guys so much for reading! I'm currently working on my uni assignment, so there won't be another update until the weekend!
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> (The 'be/buy' mistake Jean makes was an actual typing error I did when I was writing it, so I decided to go with it...)

_To: Marco Bodt  
i’ll be the food 4 2night?_

_To: Marco Bodt  
BUY. I’ll BUY the food 4 2night_

_From: Marco Bodt  
Well, Jean, I thought you’d never offer! ;)_

_To: Marco Bodt  
shut it perv nd answer me_

_From: Marco Bodt  
Haha. Yeah, I’ve already got pizza though, so don’t get any of that._

_To: Marco Bodt  
wat else do we even need other than pizza?_

_From: Marco Bodt  
Each other  <3<3_

_To: Marco Bodt  
ew dude stop_

“Jean!”

I looked up from my phone and yelled “It’s behind the tinned tomatoes” in Connie’s direction. He stood in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and glaring over at me as I sat on the sofa. 

Sasha was curled up in the armchair, a magazine in her lap. She raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t asking about the beans anymore, Jean…”

“Oh?” I narrowed my eyes and looked over at Connie. “What did you want then?”

Both my housemates sighed dramatically (and in perfect sync), before they both moved from their positions to sit on either side of me. If you hadn’t guessed, it’s a pretty horrible feeling to be trapped and stared at by your two usually-immature friends. 

“Jean, this is an intervention,” Sasha said quietly. The serious moment was then immediately ruined as she leaned over me towards Connie with a giggle and said, “I’ve always wanted to say that!”

Connie sniggered with her, then looked at me with a stern expression. “Jean. We need to talk about your texting.”

“If you’re going bitch about my grammar, Armin already beat you to it.”

“We’re going to bitch about how freaking obsessed you are with that dude.”

I glanced between them, not entirely sure what was going on. “You mean Marco? What obsession?”

“You don’t stop texting him!” Sasha flung her arms in the air widely. “And you always zone out when you are, with this stupid grin.”

“Not to mention the fact that you hang out with him pretty much every day after work,” Connie added. 

“Including when you were supposed to be having a party with us!”

“Hey!” I punched them both on the arms. “You didn’t even tell me about that damned party. And so what if I have another friend? Why’s it such a big deal.” I went to stand up – it was nearly time to head off to the studio anyway, but they grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back into the sofa, leaning over me with dark faces that, frankly, were creepier than Hanji’s right now.

“We must ask you a serious question, Jean Kirschtein,” Connie murmured. I pushed my head into the cushions in an attempt to move back from their breaths on my face. 

Sasha’s eyes widened and she pressed her forehead against mine. “Are you and the freckle boy doing the do?”

“DUDE NO!”

At that precise moment, the phone in my hand lit up and both Sasha and Connie saw the text on the screen. 

_From: Marco Bodt  
There’s no need to hide your feelings for me, Jean. I thought we’d pushed past that last night on the beach  <3_

I hated everyone.

Whilst the two idiots began screaming about ‘THE BEACH?’, I somehow managed to escape their clutches and grab my coat and bag and got the hell out. I’d never pulled out of the parking lot faster, that’s for sure. 

It took all of ten minutes to grab some stuff for tonight at the shops – just enough that the two of us could binge whilst I whooped Marco’s ass at whatever game was on the menu tonight – and before I knew it, I was pulling into the studio. I wondered if I should be worried by the fact coming to work (where I would have to act out violent and life-threatening scenes) was a break from being at my flat. Then again, going to Marco’s tonight would be the best break. 

I left most of my things in the car and headed inside. There were a few people from the crew lingering about, and one of assistant directors spotted me immediately.

“Ah, Jean!” Petra called – I could barely see her face as she was swamped by two huge boxes in her arms. “You remember you’ve got training today, yeah?”

“Er, yeah, I was just going to get changed. Do you want a hand?” I was suddenly very aware that she looked too small to be holding them. 

“Don’t be silly! You go get a sweat on! I think everyone else is here already.” She balanced the boxes on one hand (which gave me a momentary heart-attack) and waved me off, before vanishing down another hall whistling happily. I decided that everyone in this business, cute small lady or not, was a terrifying beast. 

The fact remained in my mind after I got into my work-out clothes and found myself standing in the training room with Annie as my teacher. Annie, I’d discovered a few days ago, was one of the friends Reiner had mentioned, and she was a monster. Eren, Reiner, Marco and myself had to do a buttload of fighting in the film, so she was in charge of showing us how to do it for the camera. I was pretty sure she’d done more than just acting out fights in her time. Today we were starting with the basics: fake punching. Honestly, I would have had a great time just sitting back and watching Eren be ‘punched’ by Reiner - even if he was unbelievably confident and snarky the whole time – but apparently Marco and I had to work too. Who knew?

“Alright Jean!” Marco said with a grin. “Hit me!”

I smirked, turning to him and cracking my knuckles. “You best shut that big mouth of yours or I might actually do that.”

He giggled. Which was perhaps the worst thing he could do at that moment. It was one of those stupid giggles that he usually let out when I swore at him for beating me in a game, or when we were watching some sappy rom-com. 

And I couldn’t do it. 

My stomach twisted at the thought of making a fist towards him, and I started to feel a little sick. Marco picked up on my sudden reluctance straight away and pulled that damned concerned face of his. I laughed it off. 

“You go first.”

He didn’t question it, and just bit his bottom lip as his mouth tugged up at the corners. I braced myself to do the move like Annie had told me, and Marco got ready to swing. 

I watched him carefully. The way his eyebrows narrowed whenever he concentrated. The way he licked his lips when he was nervous. It was all just… kind of overwhelming. My stomach twisted tighter as I thought back to what Connie and Sasha had said this morning and something hit me. 

This guy had floored me. 

Literally. 

And metaphorically, but mainly literally.

Something hit me and I was flat on the floor with a strange burning sensation travelling through my cheek. 

And here I thought I was getting ready to realise my fucking feelings for him or something. 

Oh wait, I only went and did that too. 

So, I reluctantly put aside the revelation that I was head over heels for Marco Bodt, of all fucking people (note to self: deal with that serious issue later), and tried to work out how exactly I’d ended up on the ground. 

“Shit, Jean!” Oh, there was the freckled object of my affections. Leaning over me with this hilariously panicked face. “I’m so sorry. Are you ok? Can you sit up?”

“You just floored me…” I mumbled, not entirely sure if I meant it in the literal or metaphorical sense. Probably both.

Marco, understanding only the literal meaning of it, seemed slightly relieved, and I barely moved as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled my upright. I touched my cheek, only to flinch when I realised just how tender it was. The guy had really belted me. 

Annie knelt beside me, staring at the two of us blankly. “You didn’t move in time,” she said, looking accusingly at me and then at Marco. “And you had your fist too close.”

“However, it was the most beautiful punch I’ve ever seen,” Pixis exclaimed (apparently having been watching from the doorway the whole time). 

Petra was called and she escorted me to the studio’s medical room, where the nurse did nothing but tell me I’d have a brilliant bruise soon enough. When I was dragged back towards one of the sets where most people seemed to be working, I was told just to go home today – we were supposed to be shooting the promotional pictures this afternoon, but (luckily for me) one of the set designers had apparently broken the most important set wall by putting his foot through it. The fact that Reiner was at the side of the room crippled over laughing beside some tall dark haired guy said that the culprit was another of his friends. 

So, after squeezing in a quick costume fitting, Marco and I got into my car a lot earlier than we should have. After shutting the doors, the two of us just sat there for a moment before the first cackle escaped my mouth. I just couldn’t help it. The whole situation was fucking ridiculous. 

“J-jean?” Marco asked, hesitantly poking me in the shoulder like he thought I was broken. 

“This is like some crappy soap!”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

I wiped away the tears forming at the corners of my eyes, and leaned my head on the steering wheel, turning my head to smile at him. “You floored me.”

“Yeah… and I think I broke y–”

He cut off, staring at me with wide eyes. I didn’t move my gaze from his, I didn’t want to. It was only when I noticed him let out a slightly shaky breath that I realised what I was doing. 

“Right, well…” I coughed and quickly turned on the engine, hoping my face wasn’t turning red. “Back to yours?”

He just gave a small nod and sunk further into his seat. I didn’t try to look at what sort of face he was making.

The silent journey was surprisingly comfortable; I turned the radio on in case it became awkward, but we didn’t really need it. We both seemed… content, I suppose. When we finally got to Marco’s, the two of us were smiling as we got out the car. 

Marco rented a room in a large house owned by an old couple, most of the other residents were college students, but the whole place had a warm atmosphere about it. I quite liked hanging out there, even if the living areas and bathroom was all communal. 

Old man Tom (as he told us to call him) was cleaning the hall as we came in and gave me an overly-friendly hug, before shooing us immediately upstairs because his domino buddies were coming round. Marco’s room was on the second floor, and we raced up the stairs carrying the bags I’d brought. 

“Movie or game?” Marco asked, placing the bags by the TV. 

“Food,” I groaned as I flopped onto his bed. He laughed and muttered something that I think was offensive, before throwing a bar of chocolate at me. I hissed in pain as it hit my cheek. 

“Crap, Jean, I’m sorry! I forgot!” Marco squealed, scrambling towards me. 

I sat up on the side of the bed, pouting at him and prodding my cheek hesitantly. Damn, who would have guessed this guy would have packed such a punch? Marco knelt in front of me, his face contort with regret, stretching out towards my cheek. 

“It’s fine Marco. I shouldn’t have gotten distracted when you were about to throw your fist towards my face,” I scoffed, dropping my hands into my lap and shrugging. I didn’t want to make him feel any worse than he already did, but I was doing a really bad job at that. 

“What the distracted you?”

“Just… stuff.”

His fingertips brushed the reddened skin lightly. They were cold, or perhaps my cheeks were just hot, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I was quickly realising how close Marco was to me. After I didn’t respond to the first touch, he stroked his thumb over my cheek. A shiver ran down my spine that I tried to keep hidden. We sat in silence. His thumb moving over the sensitive skin so gently it almost stopped hurting completely. He didn’t meet my eyes, just stared at his hand touching me for what felt like hours. 

Almost in a daze, I lifted my hand to his face and drew a line connecting the litter of freckles. He flinched when I started, his thumb stopping, but soon relaxed against my hand and sighed lightly. 

He looked like an idiot. All serious and calm and I felt my eyebrows narrow in irritation as I realised that I had feelings for this. This… ok, he was pretty perfect, but it wasn’t like I wanted him to be! Last I remembered, I was still getting over the constant rejection from Mikasa, not falling head over heels for some guy I barely knew. Sure, I knew him better now, but looking back I was pretty sure I started tumbling down the rocky slope of Crush Canyon the very first day we sat in that coffee shop. 

Well, fuck. Hadn’t I turned into a character right out of a Jane Austen novel? 

“Jean?”

Ugh. And he had to say my name so… so… fucking perfectly!

I have no idea how you say something perfectly, but he managed it. 

Oh, I was probably mean to respond to that, wasn’t I? 

“What?”

“You’re a little close…”

I blinked. Sure enough, I’d been leaning toward him this whole time. His face was much too close for comfort. Our noses almost touching. I didn’t feel his breath on me, but I was almost certain that’s because he was holding it. 

Yet I couldn’t move away.

“I’m just… looking at your freckles…” was what eventually came out of my mouth, my voice nothing but a whisper.

He licked his lips: nervous. “Well… it’s not like you’ll scare them away by talking normally…”

I chuckled: he’d dropped his voice to a whisper too. “You can’t be too careful.”

And so I leaned in some more. Marco didn’t pull back, and that was good enough for me. I felt his hand tighten a little on my cheek, though he moved it to the back of my head when I flinched. I leant into him, breathing deeply as our lips pressed together.


	5. Forgetting It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finds working with Marco even harder than ever, and the writer steals lines from the manga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for this being posted at the weekend! But we can just pretend that didn't happen...  
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading everyone! I'm super glad you're enjoying it ^.^
> 
> The next chapter should be up relatively soon (I won't make any promises when), as it's the chapter I both really want to write, and the one I REALLY don't want to write. 
> 
> Please enjoy! :)

_His lips shook like he was scared. He clutched at my hair like I would slip through his fingers. Every movement was perfect. The longer we stayed pressed against each other, the more my chest tightened. I pulled him up, forcing him to come closer, to get off the damned floor and sit beside me. He seemed unsure; his knees almost gave way as he put weight on them, desperately trying to keep our lips together as he stood._

_We broke away for the shortest moment, and all I could hear was the trembling breath that passed over those reddening lips. I clutched at his shirt, tugging him towards me, crushing our mouths together again. I shivered at his moan, and my back made contact with the mattress before I’d really thought about where this was going._

_He hovered over me, his tongue slowly trailing across my lips, edging into my mouth. My fingers twitched, my hands clutching at every part of him I could reach. His neck. His arms. His waist. Everywhere._

_We broke apart. Gasping. Hot. Staring at each other through half-lidded eyes._

“JEAN!”

I blinked. 

Across the set, the whole of the crew were either glowering or sniggering in my direction. On the actual set, Eren and Reiner were staring over at me. Eren wore the typical ‘Tired of your shit, Kirschtein’ expression. Marco peered over his shoulder at me, a smile of something close to sympathy on his face. 

Shit, did I miss my cue?

The grunted scolding I then got for ‘dozing off in the middle of a scene’ answered that question perfectly. 

As I stood getting an earful, I glanced back across at Marco. He was listening to something Eren was saying – or pretending too, I supposed, judging by the way he kept peeking over at me and immediately looking away when he realised I was watching him too. 

The scene we were supposed to be shooting was set in a make-shift camp the four of us had set up, just after the rest of our team had been wiped out in the first confrontation with the enemy. Eren’s character Frost was badly injured, but as mouthy as ever as he tried to vow his revenge. Reiner’s Thwaite character spent most of the scene trying to get him to shut up, which was hilarious (until you realised that Thwaite was only saying it all because he was really planning the betrayal from this moment, then it was just sort of chilling). 

This was also meant to be the only scene where Sole voiced his worries about the mission – Marco was unnervingly good at the emotional stuff. I, as Banner, was supposed to come in after washing the blood off my clothes, then proceed to promise Sole it would be ok. 

It was sort of a shame that the scene I was playing in my head was the one that played out between me and Marco yesterday in his room…

_“Jean…”_

_“What?”_

_“I’m…” He bit his lip. Probably because I was being an annoying little shit and playing with the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not sure what’s…”_

_I tugged him towards me, trailing my teeth down his jaw line. “Does it really matter?”_

_“W-well…”_

“DAMMIT JEAN, LISTEN!”

I tried to shake the memory from my head. 

“S-sorry!”

By the time we’d finally started filming again, I’d somewhat managed to concentrate. Or at least, I’d managed to storm onto set at the right time and slam my sopping wet clothes down beside the fire. 

“Fucking stains,” I grumbled, sitting myself down beside Marco, running my hands through my hair. “Guess I’ll be wearing the blood of our comrades from here on out,” I snatched the water flask from Marco’s fingers, taking a swig. “They just had to go and destroy our supplies, huh?”

“It’s hopeless… isn’t it?” 

The way Marco spoke sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t even need to pretend to look surprised. He stared blankly into the flames, the emotion so real in his eyes I could only hold my breath and wait for his next line.

“It’s not like I wasn’t prepared to die… but what the hell am I dying for?”

“SHUT UP!”

Beside me, Marco flinched at my shout. He looked at me, confusion and panic crossing his face. I turned, grabbing at his shirt and shook him violently. I felt tears stinging my eyes, even though there was nothing about crying in the script. 

“We’re not done yet, you hear?” I snarled, bringing my face right up to his. “We’re getting out of here. We’re getting back home. And we’re going to survive.”

His lips moved to form a word. He paused. He stared back at me for longer than he should have. It was only at the last moment that he squeaked out “Jake…”

I could have sworn he was about to say ‘Jean’.

_The two of us froze like that: staring at one another, breathing deeply, tears threatening. My fingers slackened on his shirt, but he didn’t move away. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at his lips. They still looked red at the place I’d bitten them last night…_

_“W-well… I just… don’t understand–”_

_I cut him off by biting his lip. I brushed a hand across his cheek._

_“Marco… would it be shitty of me to tell you to shut your damn mouth?”_

_His eyes widened for a moment, but a smile appeared and he leaned back down to me. I hummed in appreciation as he did the exact opposite of shutting his mouth. Thankfully, I didn’t mind him opening it for this._

“Who says we’re getting out of here?” 

Eren’s voice brought me back to reality. Marco’s breath hitched, as if he’d been somewhere else entirely too. I only hoped he’d been in the same place as me. 

The two of us looked across at Eren – who apparently hadn’t noticed that we’d broken character slightly. He was covered in blood, glaring across the set, pushing Reiner away as he tried to force him back down into bed. 

“We’re not leaving until we’ve done what we came here to do…” he snarled. Eyes mad. “I’m gonna destroy them… every last one…”

I could almost hear the sound effect guys putting some dramatic overlay music in the following pause. Then, mercifully, I heard the word that would end towards filming. 

“CUT!”

I sighed in relief; there was no way I could keep my acting head screwed on any longer. 

“Erm, Jean?”

“Hm?” 

“You’re… still sort of…” 

I looked at the lack of space between us and quickly let go of his shirt, pushing myself to my feet as I felt my cheeks heat up. This was becoming too much of a habit around Marco. I needed to learn to keep my damn hands to myself.

“That was great, guys!” Petra sung as she came over to us. She cradled a clipboard in her arms. “Really. I couldn’t even breathe when you two had that little moment!”

“Moment?” I choked, forcing a laugh out of my lungs. “What moment? We didn’t have any moment.” Marco had stood up, but wouldn’t make eye contact with me. 

Petra seemed sufficiently confused, but just smiled and nodded before looking down at her list. “Anyways, you two are down for a photo shoot now whilst we do Christa’s scene.”

“Both of us?” Marco asked. 

“Yeah, for the promotional posters. Pixis and the advertising crew decided it would be best for you two to have your main posters together,” She didn’t seem to notice the uncertainty on Marco’s face. “So mind heading over to Stage 3? You’ll have to have your make-up touched up Jean, you’re bruise is starting to show again.” 

With a light-hearted laugh, Petra pushed us both off into the corridor. And we were suddenly alone. 

Well, not suddenly, but it felt like we’d just been shoved into an ice cold lake without warning. 

For a brief moment, we glanced at each other. The tension was so thick I could taste it. It tasted like cold McDonalds fries and guilt. Two things which always seemed to come hand in hand. 

Marco let out a heavy breath through his nose and gave a smile. “Suppose we better go, huh”

He looked hurt. 

As he began walking down the corridor, I felt a surge of panic course through my chest. My throat tightened, and I had to swallow down the growing worry. 

“Marco!” 

He paused, looking back. 

“I…” I hadn’t expected this. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that things would turn out this way. I checked around, just to make sure no one was behind me. He stayed silent. Waiting. “Last night…”

_I grabbed his shoulders. Our lips broke apart and I flipped us. He clenched his eyes as his back hit the bed. Opening them only as I crawled over him, pushing his shirt upwards. I stroked my lips across his neck. Felt his bare skin under my fingers. Sunk further and further into a daze._

_“Jean!”_

_His hands grabbed my wrists, shoving me away. He sat up, panting and covering his mouth with his hand as if he didn’t quite believe what was going on._

_“Stop,” he whispered._

_It was like a kick in the gut._

_By my sides, my hands clenched into fists. “Why?”_

_“We…” He buried his head in his hands, hiding his expression from me. “We work together. We can’t mess around and make it awkward on set.”_

_“Mess around…?”_

_Oh… so that’s what he saw it as._

_“Shit,” I got off him as fast as my body would let me move. I stood with my back to him, unable to show him my face in case the hurt showed. “Well I guess this never happened then… Sorry.”_

_“I never–”_

_“I’m going to head off. Forgot I promised Connie and Sasha I’d make dinner for them. See you at the studio tomorrow.”_

_I didn’t wait to hear a reply. I grabbed my bag and got the hell out of there before I gushed my fucking heart out._

_Idiot._

_That’s what I was._

_A fucking idiot._

Marco watched me. He seemed like he wanted me to say something in particular. Apologise again, I suppose. I rubbed my neck awkwardly. 

“Last night…” I repeated. “I shouldn’t have done that. So, we should just forget about it… yeah?”

That was possible right? Of course it was. Friends had drunken make-out sessions all the time… Or, you know, totally sober make-out sessions…

Marco smiled like I was some sort of wounded animal. “I just didn’t want you to do something you regretted.”

Ha. Too fucking late for that.

“Yeah,” I walked over to him. “Let’s just get back to normal, huh?”

“Sure thing.”

“Good,” I’ll be honest; I was disturbingly relieved that he didn’t seem like planning to totally end whatever friendship we had just because of my stupid mistake. I slapped him on the shoulder and headed towards Stage 3. “Let’s go bowl everyone over with our sexiness.”

Turns out bowling everyone over with my sexiness was a lot harder than I thought, since the first ten minutes consisted of the make-up team plastering an inhuman amount of foundation over my fat cheek. Marco was being briefed by Erd, the photographer, about what he had to do in the photos, but I kept seeing him look my way to giggle – which was at least an improvement on earlier today. 

By the time we were standing in a set that consisted over rubble (a green screen behind us so they could put in some horribly destroyed city as a backdrop), Marco was acting as if nothing had happened last night.

The majority of our shots were indeed together – though we did do a few simply individual ones. The amount of times we had to be touching in one way or another for a photo was just ridiculous. Not that I’m complaining…

By the end, we were in there for over an hour, and I was starting to fall asleep standing up. Erd thanked us for our work and sent us off for the day. I groaned on the way back to the dressing rooms. 

“I swear to god, they make Sole and Banner act more like a couple with every passing day!” 

Marco laughed. “Wait until we start the scenes on location tomorrow. Those ones are almost as couple-y as Eren and Christa’s.”

“Good point,” I snorted, a smirk on my lips. 

As our laughed faded, it uncovered the discomfort we were both trying to hide. We glanced at each other, apologetic smiles on both our faces. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jean,” Marco said. I only just realised we were standing outside the room with my name on it. 

“Yeah… bright and early!”

“Don’t sleep through your alarm.” 

He waved and I headed inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. I let my forehead fall against the door, squeezing my eyes shut so tight that dots danced across the black. I sighed, praying that my stomach would unknot already. 

He hadn’t offered to ring me in the morning to make sure I was up. He hadn’t asked for a lift in. I’d ruined it. Me and my damned feelings had ruined what me and Marco had. 

“Fucking perfect…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yeah... I know that didn't include any M rated stuff, but I figured I'd just put the rating up now. Mwhaha.)


	6. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen and Jean... well... things happen.

It was probably the seventh or eighth horrible bump that finally disturbed my sleep enough to make me open my eyes. Disappointing since this car was pretty much the perfect temperature for nap time, and the pillow I’d forcibly acquired was surprisingly comfortable. 

And by ‘pillow’ I of course mean Marco’s shoulder. 

Which was totally not awkward at all since we had totally worked things out yesterday after our slightly accidental (or completely on purpose, depending on your point of view) kissing session. I was also totally not taking advantage of the ‘whoops, sorry I was half-asleep’ excuse in order to use the aforementioned shoulder-pillow – which was not only the perfect height for my head, but also just muscular enough to be a comfortable resting place…

Ok. I have a serious problem.

Forcing myself to forget about that perfect shoulder attached to it’s perfect body that was sitting beside me, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and tuned into the rest of the surrounding world. 

Because, even though it’s a shame, the world does not only consist of Marco Bodt.

We’d all got to work at an absurd time in the morning. I don’t even remember what time, I just recall been dragged out of bed and driven in by Levi. It was early enough that both Eren and I were slumped in the back seat of his car without even exchanging a single swear word. Once at the studio, the two of us were shoved into a 4x4 with Marco, Reiner, Petra and a driver, the same car we’d been in for the past three and a half hours or so? Either way, it had been a long time and judging from the horrendously loud snores coming from both Reiner and Petra, I wasn’t the only tired one. 

“It’s arisen,” Eren muttered as my eyes met his. He was leaning over the back of his seat, apparently having been talking to Marco. I wasn’t awake enough to retort and glanced out the window. We were in the middle of the countryside somewhere – so I could only assume we were nearly there. 

“Sucks that we’re jumping straight into shooting, huh?” Eren continued with a yawn. “I would kill for at least a few hours to nap.”

“We only have a limited time though,” Marco pointed out with a smile. To which Eren promptly replied with a groan and slipped back into his seat. 

I continued staring out the window for a while longer, still drifting in and out of a light sleep. Well, at least I tried to, since I could have sworn I felt someone staring at me. More precisely, I swore I could feel Marco staring at me. After a few more moments I heard a soft huff as he laughed through his nose. It was only then I turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?”

He didn’t meet my gaze and looked out his own window. “Your cheek’s bright red.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, probably because it was resting on a hot thing.”

“What?”

“What?”

Marco finally stared back at me, eyes wider than Bambi’s when his mother died…

…That was a terrible analogy. 

I smirked at the shook on his face. “Whose cheeks are red now?”

Neither of us said anything else… though I did hear a muttered ‘Get a room’ from Eren’s area of the car.

Ironically (god I hate irony) Marco and I did get a room a mere half hour later as we reached the hotel the team was staying at. A certain super crummy director of ours gave some half-assed excuse about needing to cut down on the budget of the film, so Marco and I ended up awkwardly stepping into a twin bed room at the hotel with our bags. 

A crushing silence quickly followed as we saw the two single beds, only separated by a small shared bedside table. It was a nice room, don’t get me wrong, it just happened to become an awkward one as Marco cleared his throat indiscreetly. 

“Do you want the one by the window?” he asked with a shy smile. 

“Sure.” I figured he’d prefer to have a shorter distance to the door. You know, in case I madly try and jump him in the middle of the night or something…

…which I know shouldn’t sound slightly tempting.

I flung my bag down and copied the action with my body. Both produced a satisfying ‘fwumph’ as they hit the unexpectedly soft mattress. I kept my face buried in the bed and listened to the sounds of Marco moving around in the background. He moved slower than normal, slightly more carefully too – his feet didn’t shuffle like they normally did, there wasn’t any little bumps as he walked into things or dropped something like usual, he didn’t even hum crappy 90s songs. I’d never even noticed that he normally did all that, but without those little quirks it was like the world was crashing down. 

In a less dramatic sense, it was super uncomfortable. 

After a few minutes, Marco came to an abrupt stop. “Should we, er, head down? I know they want to get started asap…”

I let out a huff that Marco seemed to recognise as an agreement, and pushed myself off the bed. As I looked over at Marco I found his eyes on me, but he quickly turned to the door when our eyes met. He shuffled forward slightly, doing this stupid little dance like he couldn’t work out whether to wait for me to walk with him or to just head out by himself. Eventually he made it to the door and glanced back at me before I stood up and walked behind him. 

The set was just a ten minute drive from the hotel, and we were immediately shoved into our respective trailers to get made-up for filming. I ended up nearly falling asleep at one point, Auruo was slapping so much ‘dirt’ and ‘blood’ on me. By the time I got to the actual set, it was probably about midday. 

“Double check your script, Jean!” Petra prompted as she passed me it, swiftly moving on to talk to Eren about something. I was pretty confident about this scene, so I only briefly glanced over it; it was probably my character’s big climax scene, and it was hardly one that I would be forgetting easily. It was pretty fucking depressing. 

Instead, I used the extra few minutes to check my phone. A few good luck messages from Armin and Connie, as well as one from Sasha asking where I’d hidden her emergency chocolate. I turned it off and gave it to one of the Assistants for safe-keeping – mainly because I didn’t feel like telling Sasha her emergency chocolate had already become my early morning sugar intake when Levi ordered me to grab something to keep me going. 

Pixis appeared by my side to talk me through the scene. It was an important one, so it had already been organised and slightly rehearsed, but it was nice to have a few reminders for the movements. Apparently he’d already talked to Marco about it all, so I was pushed over to my starting position. 

The set was amazingly intricate: a deserted and devastated town that our characters had just had a huge battle in. Fake bodies, fallen bricks, broken glass; it all looked… well, terrifying, to be honest. I stood behind a building waiting for my cue, and it was like I was totally immersed in this world. A world where the enemies were in my own team, where death hung over our shoulders just waiting to snatch you at any time, where the only thing that kept you sane were the people you suffered with. I couldn’t live in a world like this, that’s for sure. 

I heard the “Action!” and spotted a camera crew in the building opposite me, ready to give me instructions for when to go since I couldn’t see around the wall. I heard the muffled sounds of the ‘fight’ in the distance – the extras were super intimidating, it sounded like they were screaming bloody war cries or something. Actually, they probably were. I was waiting for a good 5-10 minutes, knowing what was happening, but being unable to hear it. It was Marco’s big moment out there right now, and somehow that made me smile. 

One of the camera crew lifted a hand to alert me, and as soon as they dropped it out I went. 

My cue came after the worst of the battle. The enemies had gone from the area, leaving the odd late bomb to go off and dust to fly around the town. It was hot, and the sun was right above us; not the weather you’d expect them to want for this scene. I’d have imagined it should be torrential rain or something – you know pathetic fallacy and all that. 

“Christopher?” I cried Marco’s character name out as I desperately looked around, shielding my face from a large dust cloud as a nearby wall collapsed. 

“CHRIS!” I screamed again. 

The silence that rang through the deserted town was so much worse than the angry ruckus before. 

This time I tried. “Goddamit Sole, get your ass here, stat!” 

The silence continued. I panicked. I came to a stop on one long street – the various cameras oddly vanishing from my mind. 

My lip shook. “Chris! Please!”

From somewhere behind me was a cruel screech of a motor vehicle sound effect. I flinched and glanced over my shoulder, before slowly pushing myself forward to continue the search. 

“CHR–”

The word caught in my throat. The end of his name turning to a croaky much as I stared at a form lying against a wall. 

I hadn’t seen Marco’s costume before starting. I probably should have made an effort to. I wish I’d made an effort to. Maybe then it wouldn’t have felt like my heart was actually being ripped from my desperate hands. 

The soldier uniform was surprisingly intact and cleaner than the one I wore. But, it wasn’t his clothes my eyes focused on. It was the fact one of his arms was missing. 

Was that even possible to hide? I couldn’t even comprehend where his arm actually was. It… was there… right?

The right side of his body was covered in such realistic blood I almost had a panic attack. 

And his face. 

Half of his face was just… 

“Chris…?” I had to remind myself to say my lines. “Is that you?”

My voice was surprisingly steady. In my defence, I couldn’t really believe I was looking at Marco… so on some level I felt like I actually needed an answer to that question. 

Of course, no answer came from the motionless body. 

_Was he even breathing?_

I staggered towards him. I just stood at his feet. Staring. 

_Marco isn’t breathing…_

“That’s not you…” I mumbled. “Right? Answer me.”

_Marco answer..._

My knees gave way. I don’t think I even meant them to. I fell to the ground, my hands reaching out to touch his leg. 

“Chris?”

_Marco._

My hands moved up. My body crawled after. Like I was being dragged towards him by some frantic need. Clambering over those dead legs to try and find life somewhere else inside him. 

_No live person can be this motionless… surely?_

I knelt over his lap. I don’t even remember if that’s where I was supposed to move to. My hands grabbed at his chest. 

_Is his heart even beating?_

“Hey… move…”

My hands reached his neck. My fingers slipped across the blood edging his face. Even his freckles were hidden. 

“You can’t sit here.”

_This isn’t fun._

“You can’t rest yet.”

_This is horrible._

“We’ve got stuff to do.”

_I want to stop._

“We’ve got to get home.”

_I want Marco._

“We’re going to be heroes, remember?”

Was I speaking out loud? I couldn’t tell anymore. My mind was just a blur of this motionless form under me. Were the words coming out? The voice didn’t sound like mine. It was weak. It was trembling. It was crying. 

“You said we’d just take it easy after this mission.”

When had I started crying? Why were tears falling onto Marco’s body? My tears?

_He’s dead._

“Please…” I clutched at the bloodied collar, burying my head into the shoulder that was still clean. “Please get up.” The tears wouldn’t stop. They weren’t Jake Banner’s tears. They weren’t for Christopher Sole. They were my tears. And I was scared. 

The sobs escalated, as I clung to the body. Whispering his name over and over again. 

“No… please no… Marco… not Marco…”

I felt a slight twitch under me. And my mind fell back into place. 

But I was still crying. I was still scared. Scared of seeing Marco like this. It was too real and I was so scared. I loved this bugger more than anything. To see him like this… even if somewhere in my head I knew it was all make-up… it was killing me.

“Jake…” A hand fell on my shoulder. I knew that hand. It was Jaeger’s. “Jake we have to go.”

“Marco…” 

It was quiet, but something about the way Eren’s hand tightened on my shoulder told me he’d heard. 

The script told me I had to stand up after he arrived, but I could barely make my body do anything but weep. In the end, Eren grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet. I don’t know whether he moved me, or if I’d somehow moved myself, but I ended up pouring my tears onto his shoulder instead of Marco’s all of a sudden. Eren was the only thing keeping my on my feet in that moment. 

“CUT!”

That word was like a knife in my head. One that miraculously made me stop everything I was doing. I couldn’t even breath for a moment, and I felt Eren patting me roughly on the back. 

“Good work, Kirschtein!” His tone had an edge to it, and I knew exactly what it meant: ‘Pull yourself together before someone notices’. 

I did what he said and pushed myself off him, wiping as much of the residue from my face as possible with these dirty costume sleeves. I barely got a chance to turn around before Petra threw her arms around me, tears streaming from her own eyes. 

“That was beautiful Jean! Your best moment yet! You broke the whole crew!” As she moved away, she motioned to the cameras that my mind once again managed to notice. Sure enough, most of the crew looked either stunned into silence or were crying. 

I twisted around, ignoring her words on my performance.

Marco was standing up now. 

A huge breath of relief somehow came out of me as I saw him there being spoken to by one of the make-up artists. He even had his arm back. 

He caught my gaze. 

Hah, the guy looked as shaken as I did. That should probably have made me feel a little better. 

We just watched each other, both ignoring the people who were trying to talk to us. Our eyes didn’t move, or maybe they couldn’t. 

I was the one who broke it first, staring down at my feet. Shell-shocked. That’s what I’d call it. I wasn’t myself back there…. But I guess I was more myself than Jake – who I was supposed to be. I just… couldn’t see Marco like that. 

I felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no chapter! I got a new laptop and lost ALL my files, so it took a while to retrieve them all and then get back into the swing of things. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this...er...yeah... Thanks for reading :)


	7. Focus Kirschtein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean needs to get a grip and sort his life out. Also, cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting! I keep meaning to reply to the comments but I'm forgetful and yeah... I will attempt to do better!
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter! You know, the one where actual things happen!

I can’t begin to explain how thankful I was that I didn’t have any other shoots that day. The majority of the work scheduled was for Jaeger, so I was allowed to cool off in my trailer until someone offered me a lift back to the hotel. Of course, Marco was also getting a lift back. 

Yeah, that drive was fun.

Actually, the drive was silent. Marco and I sat pressed against our respective windows, completely ignoring one another’s existence. Or at least, that’s what I was doing. The whole ‘ignoring’ thing meant I wasn’t even paying the slightest attention to what he was up to. For I all know, he could have been painting his face and juggling flaming torches in the seat next to me – I would have been none the wiser. When we finally reached the hotel, I was trying to open the door before the driver had even unlocked it. Then, it was just a short walk upstairs to my room… one that I pretty much ran. 

That is, until I reached the door to my room and recalled that not only had I not picked up the card key from the reception, but I was also sharing the room with the very person I was desperate to avoid. 

“Fuck,” I cursed not-so-quietly as I turned to head back towards the staircase. Luckily (depending on your point of view), the elevator doors slid open and a freckled cutie stepped into sight. Our eyes met and he held up the card key with an uncomfortable smile. 

I nodded, stepping back and motioning that he could go ahead and open it. Marco just gave a nod and slipped the card into the door. He headed in first, putting the card key in the slot to turn the lights on and then dropping his bag down on his bed and turning to face me as I slipped inside with my head down. The door closed behind me with a soft thud and I veered straight for the sofa in front of the TV. If I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, I could at least distract myself with mind-numbing daytime telly. 

As I fell into the cushions, I slipped both my shoes off and proper my feet up on the coffee table in front of me. I would make an effort to look as completely relaxed and nonchalant as possible – which wouldn’t be a problem as long as Marco continued standing behind me where he couldn’t see how red my face was. 

I kept my eyes looked on the TV in front of me. I don’t even know what show was on, something about cooking or baking? My vision was blurred as I stared into space and cursed my entire existence, so I wasn’t really looking. Plus, I was all too aware of Marco standing behind me silently. What was he waiting for? There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to open my idiotic mouth just so more embarrassing shit could spill out of it. If he wanted to talk about what happened, he’d have to speak. I, for one, wanted to forget the last few hours as soon as possible. 

I was debating the pros and cons of going to the hotel bar and getting pissed out of my brains when Marco finally spoke. 

“What was that?”

Now, I had numerous options here. 

Option #1: Loudly tell him that I was in love with his stupid (and precious) ass, and just pretending that he was dead was too much for my pitiful heart to handle.

Option #2: Say it was an embarrassing mistake that I mixed up the names, even though the rest of that scene was acted perfectly.

Option #3: Calmly and maturely explain and apologise if it made him feel uncomfortable. 

Of course, I went for none of these options. I went for the ‘act like a giant dicklamp’ option. Why? Because I’m Jean mother-fucking-self-destructive Kirschtein. 

“Work.”

I heard Marco breath in like he was getting ready to say something, but he just sighed and fell quiet again. It was another few moments of me pretending to be greatly interested in the blur on TV before he spoke again. 

“Jean… I… that didn’t feel like acting…”

“Well that’s the point,” I scoffed. “Welcome to the show business.”

“Jean–”

“Marco, can you just leave it?”

“NO!”

Oh the self-control I had to have in order not to jump at that. I was supremely glad that Marco was still behind me, otherwise he would have seen how wide my eyes were. I heard him take a couple of dauntingly swift steps forward, noticed his shadow toppling onto my arm as it rested on the couch; he stood right there behind the back of the sofa, staring down at me. Christ, how was I meant to keep my sappy heart beating at a steady rate when I could feel those damn eyes burning into the back of my head? 

I wasn’t. Simple as that. 

The cushion I was leaning against sank as two tanned and freckled hands appeared either side of my shoulders. The sofa creaked as Marco leant so far forward his forehead was almost entering my field of vision. I felt hot. 

“Jean…” His voice was so soft and low I almost mistook it for comforting instead of threatening. “I heard your voice. I felt your hands on me. The way you trembled, your tears, how tightly you clung to me; I felt it all. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not that good an actor. I don’t know why, but whatever happened on set today was real.” 

I kept my gaze fixed on the flickering television screen. 

Of course it was all real; how couldn’t it be after I saw Marco… my Marco… like that? Lying there all bloodied and torn apart. All alone. Without me. Helpless. 

There was a small slap as my hand flew to my mouth. It was back. The image had burned itself into my eyes and now it was all I could see. I saw Marco’s body in the TV, the table, my leg. I even saw it in the darkness when I closed my eyes. I was sick. In every sense. 

“Jean, calm down,” Hands touched my cheeks. Warm. Soft. Beating with a soft and perfect pulse. I could have fallen into a trance just from their touch alone. The fingers caressed my cheeks, stopping my trembles and keeping the tears at bay, before tilting my head back to finally meet with Marco’s eyes. I wondered what I looked like to him, what exactly made his lips curl upwards into that soothing smile. “I’m here. Talk to me, please.”

My face twisted painfully as I looked at him. He seemed so lost right now, so unsure of what to do and it was all my fault. The hand dropped from my mouth into my lap as my body sunk further into the cushions. He was my Marco. And he was right here. Yet I was causing him so much trouble. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved so much better. 

Just like that night in his room, my hand lifted to touch his face without me even realising it. Before I knew it, my fingers were stroking his cheeks just as his did mine. Naturally, his face was a hell of a lot more welcoming than my mug. I couldn’t bring myself to smile, not while those pictures were still flashing across my vision. 

“Marco… you…” I grimaced as the words didn’t seem to link together in my head. Marco didn’t push me to hurry, he didn’t even more from his spot; he simply continued to stand over me, letting me bask in the unnatural warmth his hands filled me with whilst I sorted my thoughts out. 

“You, of all people, don’t deserve to die like that…” were the words that I eventually got out. 

He seemed confused – as he damn well should be – and tilted his head slightly (which achieved little but pushing his cheek further into my palm). “Jean, it’s just a film. It’s not real.”

“I know that! It’s just… I never want you to be alone like that,” I felt a familiar sting in my chest as I recalled the memory yet again. “Don’t be alone… never be alone like that.”

He must have thought I was having some sort of mental-breakdown, talking about a film scene as if it were reality, but he didn’t say anything. A good few minutes of silence passed before I pulled my hand away from him and gave the world’s fakest laugh. 

“Sorry, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

I sat up, slipping out of his hands and rest my elbows on my knees. If I was at least a decent actor, I could pretend the buzz of the TV had regained my attention. Of course, Mr. Freckled Jesus back there wasn’t too ok with ending our conversation so abruptly. He stormed (well, no, he actually walked quite gracefully) round the sofa and sat down right beside me – too close under the circumstances, if you ask me. 

“I’m sorry I can’t read your mind and understand exactly what’s going through it right now,” he began. “I wish I could, I really do. But I can’t, so you need to talk me through it.”

My teeth clenched as I turned on him. “Don’t you get it, Marco? I don’t even know what the fuck is going through my head. All I know is that when I saw you there I just… I couldn’t deal with it. But hey, no one heard me say the wrong name; it just looked like I was a fucking all-star actor, so no harm done.”

Except the harm to my ego. 

“No harm done?” 

Wow. I couldn’t help lean back a little; Marco’s angry face had appeared for the first time. And boy was it hot – 

Scary. It was scary. Just a little hot. 

His eyebrows knitted together tightly, and he leaned forward to close the gap I tried to put between us. He prodded my sharply in the ribs. “Do you have any fucking clue at all? Do you realise how hard it is to lie perfectly still when your best friend is weeping and clinging to you? Begging you to wake up or move? Do you know how fucking painful it was to hear my name in the sobs? How fucking desperate I was to say something, reach out and hug you, hold you and soothe you and tell you I was alright?”

I could only blink. 

“Well Jean? Do you?”

Marco’s nostrils flared a little. His breathing was laboured. There was a faint shine of sweat on his reddening face, and a few strands of his fringe clung to his forehead because of it. He was like… really angry. 

Angry Marco… wow… well he could just throw me over his shoulder and– 

FOCUS KIRSCHTEIN.

Where was I? Oh yeah, sexy angry Marco had just yelled at me and was awaiting some sort of reply. Assuming all the questions he’d yelled at me were rhetorical, I had to think of something else. 

“I… have never heard you swear so much… like ever.”

Yes, that was actually the crap that came out of my mouth. Come on, what else did you expect from the shithead that is me?

Even Marco didn’t seem as surprised as some might have been. He did turn a little redder though, and collapse backwards into the sofa, covering his face with his hands and letting out a very loud and muffled scream. 

Still, I did feel like my idiotic reply had at least lightened the mood for him a little. For me, it meant I could smile a little again, even if I still had this vile sinking feeling in my chest. I stared at my hands for a while waiting for him to get himself together, and desperately tried to keep my mind off today’s filming. Not that I got very far, since Marco dropped only one hand – leaving his right hand covering half of his face as he stared blankly in my direction with one eye. 

_Marco._

“N-!” I suppressed some of the pitiful cry that bubbled up my throat, but couldn’t stop my immediate reaction to jump forward and snatch Marco’s hand away from his face. My heart was pounding somewhere near the back of my mouth as my eyes scanned him for any obvious injuries. 

There’d weren’t any. Obviously. 

Marco remained as still as possible, letting me move his arm as I wanted in order to inspect him. Those worried eyes were back when I finally began to pull myself together. 

Silence fell again as I put a little more distance between us again. He only moved after me though, covering my left hand with his right. 

“It’s not real,” he whispered. 

_Isn’t it?_

I scoffed. “You sound so sure.”

“Jean, look,” Marco picked my hand up and pressed it against his chest. I could feel his heavy heartbeat against my fingers and slowly turned to look. Marco smiled, holding my hand in place even when I tried to pull it back. “I’m right here. Everything’s alright.”

My fingers twitched a little against the fabric of his shirt. The beat continued and I felt a smile appearing. 

“I know.”

\---

Don’t ask me at what point we fell asleep, I haven’t the foggiest. So I’ll just go from when I opened my eyes to find the sky outside the window completely dark. 

I’d been lying on the sofa, pressed against the back cushions – it was warm and oh so uncomfortable for my poor back that cracked as I stirred. I soon stopped moving though, and that was because my face was inches away from a certain sleeping freckled cutie. Our limbs were pretty much intertwined, but Marco’s hand still held mine against his chest. 

The beat continued. 

We were still in our clothes and the curtains hadn’t been drawn, but the TV had at least turned off. Judging by the fact the remote had moved slightly, I presumed Marco had turned it off after I’d dozed off…

…meaning I’d dozed off cuddling the target of my inappropriate affections, and his response had been to turn off the telly and snuggle up with me. 

Oh good god…

…heh, at least I hadn’t woken up with a hard-on. 

Marco moved a little in his sleep, wriggling closer to me as if he was cold all of a sudden. His breathing was so steady, so natural, so peaceful, I couldn’t do anything but lie there and listen to it. Sure, my back was screaming at me to move it into a slightly less contorted position, but it needed to fucking learn not to interrupt me when I was perving on Sleeping Beauty himself. 

And yes, I include the slight bit of drool to be part of the Sleeping Beauty package. 

All the awful images that had been plaguing me early were gone, replaced with this perfect image in front of me. I smiled – in a totally none creepy way – and lightly stroked my thumb against his chest. 

“It’s impossible to see the guy you love dead. Even if it is pretend,” I whispered to the sleeping form, closing my eyes in the hopes of drifting back off alongside him. 

“It’s also impossible not to comfort the person you love when they’re breaking down.”

Shit. 

My eyelids tore open, only for my whole body to flinch back a little as I found myself staring straight into a very drowsy looking Marco. 

Drowsy, a little embarrassed, but also a sort of glowing Marco. 

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. I may have been asleep – in which case, it was a fucking cruel and glorious dream – but I did actually think I was awake. In that case, I really didn’t know what was going on. 

I made to move – thinking that my thoughts might fall into place if I sat up or something – but Marco’s arms squeezed me tighter and held me into place. He didn’t say anything to explain or clarify what he’d just said and/or implied… he just lay there, holding me, smiling. 

Fuck. I was going to have to speak, wasn’t I? Damn it you gorgeous freckled hottie! Your tactics are cruel and unfair. 

“Er… d-did you just say you love me?”

Marco’s cheeks turned so red I could see them in the damn dark. I made a mental note to start calling him Marco the Red-Cheeked Cutie. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said.”

His heart was racing under my hand. I was pretty sure mine had stopped altogether. The corners of my lips twitched, until they finally fell into a smirk. 

“Dude, that’s gay.” I chuckled and buried my face a little further into the sofa. 

Marco frowned and shuffled even closer to me. If I’d lifted my head to look at him properly again, our noses would probably touch. His breath tickled my cheek. 

“Yes. It is very gay, Mr Kirschtein.”

“Yeah, well,” I moved my head. Yeah, our noses touched indeed. “Maybe I’m a little gay too.”

“Just a little?”

“The tiniest bit.”

It was probably about that point that I decided all those things called ‘restraint’ and ‘rationality’ were all a bunch of balls, and so, sticking it to the man (aka. the one logical cell in my brain), I kissed Marco Bodt. 

It was the briefest of brushes – hardly countable as a kiss – and then we pulled back. The moment we realised that both of us were checking for signs of uncertainty, we sniggered at our own stupidity. Neither of us bothered moving our bodies… though I don’t think either of us were really able to in that position. It didn’t matter though, since our lips pressed against each other was more than enough to satisfy us. 

Hahahahahaha… yeah right. 

We both desperately tried to rearrange ourselves; Marco just wanted his hands all over me, and I just wanted me all over Marco. The result of the semi-wrestling on the confined sofa was a very loud bang as Marco toppled off the side of the sofa and fell painfully in the space between it and the coffee table. I was left to peer down at him with a guilty smile. 

“My bad…” I bit my lip. 

“Jerk,” he grumbled back at me. 

We both scrambled to our feet, and promptly groaned in sync as the numb aches of our bodies caught up with us. 

And then we promptly started a proper make-out session. 

The hunger of Marco’s lips as they moved against mine were mirrored in his hands. They crawled up my back, tugged at my shirt, pulled roughly at me hair (momentary attractive and angry Marco flashback). My sole purpose other than drinking up Marco’s adorable gasps was to get him across the room and over to a bed. Marco’s as closer, so that’s where I steered. 

He put his complete trust in me – pretty stupid seeing as I’d just helped throw him off the sofa – and let me lead him backwards through the room until his legs hit the bed. Our lips smacked as I pulled us apart and pushed him down. I hadn’t even started crawling over him before my shirt was yanked over my head and thrown across the room somewhere. Marco, utterly impatient, grabbed my trouser waistband and tugged me forward. He was more than happy to be underneath me as my hands ran up the insides of his shirt and my lips attacked him once more.

“If you fucking stop me this time…” I warned during a gap for breath. 

Marco snarled…

MARCO SNARLED. Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is? No. Ha. I do. Haha. 

…Marco snarled and tugged at my lip with his teeth. “I thought you were just playing about.”

“No, I was in fucking love with you, idiot.”

“Well say so next time, Jean!”

“How about you just assume from this point onwards that I’m in love with your stupid face, ok?”

“Fine.” Marco grabbed my neck and crushed us together once again.


	8. King Marco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's a King, and the story lives up to its rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short! Hopefully the content makes up for it...?
> 
> Also, I've recently changed my tumblr url to 'freckledbodty' if anyone wants it! (I couldn't not have a url that wasn't connected to the lovely Marco in some way!)

_From Connie Springer  
yo jean what the fuck you do to eren? he says you lost it on set? freckles getting you down?_

_From Connie Springer  
jeeeeeaaaaaan. you going to answer dude?_

_From Sasha Braus  
Jean, youve now sucesfully freaked out both Eren nd Connie. Whre r you?_

_From Connie Springer  
you aint been replying for like hours man. seriously what you doing?_

_From Connie Springer  
or who you doing…?_

_From Sasha Braus  
CONNIE SAYS YOUR DOING THE DO WTH FRECKLES_

_From Sasha Braus  
Please tell me your tappin that._

_From Ugly Jaeger Bastard  
Horseface, me and Reiner are literally right next door! Will you shut the fuck up?!_

_From Ugly Jaeger Bastard  
OMG WHAT ARE THOSE NOISES? ISNT MARCO IN THERE WITH YOU?_

_From Ugly Jaeger Bastard  
HOLY FUCK TELL ME THAT’S NOT WHAT IM HEARING. CHRIST JEAN PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT HEARING THAT._

_From Ugly Jaeger Bastard  
I am going to kill you._

After a certain point, I stopped even noticing the angry vibrations of my phone. Not that you could really blame me, I mean, come on, who would make an effort to check some texts of irritating friends when they were busy getting it on with a piece of ass as good as Marco’s? 

I don’t think Marco had even noticed any noise coming from my stupid phone – he was much too interested with undoing my trousers as I completely owned his lips. It was almost surreal, the whole ‘Marco undressing me’ thing, especially since he wasn’t even out of his shirt yet. 

Well, I made sure that changed.

Pulling back, I knelt over him. It gave us a moment to catch our breaths, and I quickly licked away the excess saliva on my lips. Marco’s eyes seemed clouded, like he’d turned into a total animal (which I certainly didn’t mind). He didn’t even blink as he held my gaze and sat up after me, grabbing my hips and pressing his teeth against my chin. 

My fingers stroked along his arms, grabbing the sleeves and pulling his shirt over his head. The movement was a lot sexier and less awkward in my head, but in real life I may or may not have got the top caught around Marco’s face. 

“Er… Jean?” Marco’s muffled voice asked through the fabric as I realised his shirt was a fucking button one. “You trying to suffocate me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, shut up.” My hands desperately tried tugging – earning something between a laugh and an ‘ouch’ from Marco – and in the end he had to push my hands away and tug his shirt back down in order to unbutton it and throw it aside. Finally, he sat there shirtless with a pitiful smirk on his precious fucking face. 

I scowled. “That never happened.”

Giggling, Marco wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed us together. He pushed his face into my neck and gave a pleased hum. “Whatever.”

I was about to grumble something back when a hot tongue on my neck shut me up. I liked that. In future, I’d like more of Marco’s tongue shutting me up. 

His hands wandered down again, his thumbs hooking in the back of my trousers as he sucked and nibbled down my collarbone. My breath came out in a low shudder. Knotting my fingers in his hair, I pulled his head back, quickly catching his lower lip between my teeth. Our eyes were open, staring one another down as we moved away. Marco sucked on his bitten lip briefly. 

“Ok, Bodt,” I said. “How’re we doing this?” I ground my hips down against him to make a point. He gave a small grunt, not expecting the sudden motion. 

“I don’t even care anymore,” he grinned, leaning forward to rub his nose against mine. “I just want…”

Another blush rose to his cheeks before he finished. I had no fucking clue why he was suddenly becoming so shy again. 

Deciding not to comment on how he’d suddenly turned into a blushing virgin (oh shit, I hadn’t ever asked about his past exploits…), I pushed my lips back against his. In the mixture of pants and bites and tongues, I managed to get my hands busy down under. 

Thank god the removal of his trousers was easier than the shirt – I undid the button and zip, and raised off his lap onto my knees to give him a chance to wriggle out of them. They were quickly disposed of, leaving only one pair of boxers between me and a certain part of him that was pressing against my groin when I lowered down again. 

As uncomfortable as I was – what with a horribly hard dick still trapped in my trousers, and someone else starting to grind their hips against it – I was miraculously focused on the smallest of things: Marco’s fingers twitching against my back, the way he’d always run his tongue over my lip after he bit it, his smell mixing with mine as we remained glued to one another. 

“Jean…?” Marco mumbled as he leaned his head back when I went to attack his neck, eyes half-lidded as he sighed softly. “I don’t suppose you… erm… brought anything?”

Fuck my life. 

I usually always carried at least one fucking condom. Hell, there was a never ending stash in the bathroom back in my apartment (mainly thanks to Sasha, I think you’ll find). Yet I hadn’t brought any on this damned trip. 

I sat up straight and cursed rather loudly. That was enough of an answer for Marco, who looked so downtrodden I wanted to cry. 

Marco bit his lip. “I don’t even have anything for lubricant…” 

I stroked my fingers against his hips to reassure him. As he watched me for a reaction, I smiled darkly. “Whatever. I guess you’ll have to look forward to the continuation when we get back.”

That pulled a laugh from him – one that quickly turned just as dark as mine as his hands snaked towards my trousers again. As he began tugging them down, he brushed his lips against mine. “Well can I at least get a sneak-preview?”

That went straight to my dick. 

“You’ll get anything if you ask me in that tone.” I pushed his hands away and finished the job of removing my trousers for him. It took a bit of manoeuvring, but Marco was perfectly patient. He just sat back on his hands and watched me with a steady expression, drinking up every inch my body moved. 

We just sort of sat there. Myself straddling Marco’s lap as he stared up at me with this adoring gaze. Hell, I think I actually blushed thanks to the damn look in his eyes. I wasn’t up for getting all soppy though, I was much more interested in getting all sweaty. 

My hands jumped into action, rubbing him through his underwear and rolling my hips. His eyelids squeezed shut; after all this waiting it was no wonder he was sensitive. My lips twitched up higher at the corners, wrapping one arm around his neck to make sure he remained right there in my hold as I worked through his pants. It was only after I started to notice a slight dampness through the fabric that I let myself reach inside. Marco’s eyes opened again as he moaned gratefully at the touch. That was when he reached down too. 

My whole body shivered as he took my dick out my pants, stroking his thumb across the slit lightly… fucking tease that he was. With one last longing glance at each other, we leant in for another kiss and let our hands do their work. 

I had plenty of years worth of experience to go off… and by that I mean masturbating… so I think I was pretty confident with what I was doing. The long, slow strokes that dragged out and teased; the quick, pleasing ones; and then of course whatever else my hand felt like doing. The fact Marco’s pants were quickly turning into moans of pleasure only made me surer I was doing everything right…

But Marco? Marco was some sort of fucking handjob King. I didn’t want to give too much thought as to how he knew exactly when to focus on the head, or how tightly to squeeze so it felt unbearably good, but he was unbelievable. In fact, if anyone asks, I was most certainly not reduced of a shaking, groaning wreck within a couple of minutes – I stuck it out like the badass guy with a huge libido that I am… yeah… totally…

His free hand ran along my back, alternating between tickling my skin and scratching playfully at it. Roaming south, he pushed into the back of my underwear, massaging my ass as he pushed me forward against him even more. 

The kiss was messy; our lips seemed to be almost tangled, and a lot of the time missed the other’s mouth completely. Tongues weren’t really an option at this point, seeing as we had way too much of a hard time breathing without them. I think I actually preferred that; it meant when Marco really started moaning, it came out crystal clear. 

“Jean…” Marco breathed, his hand moving faster and harder. I returned the favour as best I could – though embarrassingly enough I think I was much closer to coming than he was. The pitiful sounds that kept creeping out my throat were louder than I wanted them to be, but Marco smiled wider each time he heard them.

He thrust his hips upwards, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp. My hand tightened around his dick, making him whimper. Our hips began to rock in time with each other, and that only made our hands move faster to keep up. 

“Shit, Marco,” I growled, clutching at his hair. I could feel everything building higher and higher in my stomach; my body was moving of its own accord, and all I wanted to do was stare at Marco’s red freckled face as it scrunched in complete desire. The sight of him totally indulged in the moment and the feelings was only pushing me closer. 

His eyes snapped open and his hand left my ass to grab the back of my head. He crushed our lips together in a frenzied kiss. His hips going even faster and ordering me to keep up. He was feeling it just as much, and that thought made my skin burn.

Marco moaned loudly against my lips. His hips bucked and I felt him convulse as he came in my hand. I stroked him through it, chuckling in pride that he’d lost control first. 

I didn’t have long to laugh though. Marco seemed to regain control much too quickly and focused all his attention on me. With nothing else to do, my sticky hand gripped at his side as Marco pumped me. I sucked air through my teeth with a whistle at the sudden return to stimulation. Marco held out bodies together tightly, ravished my neck. 

And then he whispered my name. Over and over. He just kept repeating it. Jean. Jean. Jean. It swarmed my head. His voice chilled me as his body warmed me. A moment later, I came. The sudden flood smacked into me as I gasped. It was Marco’s name that came out as I did so, which seemed to make him hold me tighter as he waited for my high to pass. 

So we sat there. Our bodies pressed against each other as we both desperately tried to regain our composure. 

“Did that… just happen?” was what first came out of Marco’s mouth. His hold on me slackened, letting me pull back to see him properly. His eyes were wide; the disbelief in them didn’t seem to match the fulfilled glow in his cheeks. 

Smirking, I gave an exaggerated wink. “And that’s just a sneak-preview, remember?”

Clambering away from each other, I headed to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper to clean us up with. When I returned, Marco was pulling at his pants waistband with a furrowed brow. 

“I’m going to have to change out of these,” he sighed. He was about to wander over to his suitcase when I caught his wrist and tugged him back to the bed. 

“Or, you could clean up a little, take those damned things off and just get under the duvet with me.”

Apparently that option was by far the best, and in no time the two of us were curled up in bed. Legs tangled, fingers entwined, we face each other and just lay in silence. Marco gave a small giggle and shuffled closer to me (for warmth, he said). 

At some point, we just fell asleep.


	9. Sizing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean has plans for his last night in the hotel room with Marco... big plans. 
> 
> He just needs to climb over a few road blocks to see these plans through!

By the time Marco’s alarm went off the next morning, I’d already been awake for a good hour or so. Unfortunately, I happened to like the whole waking-up-tangled-with-a-naked-Marco thing, so just sort of lay there. Of course, once the offensively loud beeping started, the sleep-mumbling freckled idiot jolted upright in shock – taking a few of my limbs along with him. 

Cue a morning of repetitive “sorry”s and not-so-sneaky butt pinches as we both tried to shower and dress before breakfast stopped being served downstairs. In the end, possibly because of the state we’d left his bed in and how long I hid his trousers for, I ran downstairs much earlier than Marco. 

Most of the crew must have eaten early and gone off to prepare for the day’s shoot, since there were only a handful of people I recognised in the hotel’s restaurant. Two of which happened to be my co-stars, so lucky me for getting to sit with Jaeger and the Rock. 

I hadn’t bothered replying to Eren’s texts when I read them this morning, but I was rather glad I didn’t have to explain my first request to him. 

“Let me borrow some condoms.”

The poor bastard god-damn early choked on the banana he was eating. 

Ha. Irony. 

He coughed so long I was half way through my cereal before he finally replied. “Fuck no.”

“Come on, Jaeger!”

“I had to listen to you moaning all fricking night. Why the hell do you think I’d lend you stuff to do it again tonight?” Eren glowered at me across the table. Reiner seemed completely unfazed by the conversation and was more focused on downing the full English in front of him. 

“Isn’t there some sort of unspoken dude law that says we lend the necessary things to get laid?” I kicked him under the table. 

Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms ever-so-smugly over his chest, he smirked. “What makes you think I’ve even brought any, anyway? We’re here for work.”

“Please,” I scoffed. “I totally heard Levi and you talking about the plans to go to some hotel together after work was done here.”

Ah, the joy of seeing Jaeger’s face change colour schemes. I swear steam was coming from his face his cheeks looked that hot. “You were asleep, you fucker!”

“No one could sleep in a car with you and Levi going all gooey.”

“You asshole!”

Something told me by the extreme kicking match that started then that I wouldn’t be able to get any help from Eren. I made sure to keep a note of this, so I could deny him if he was ever caught short or something. 

How Reiner had been able to make sense of the argument, I don’t know, but he pushed his plate away and was able to jump straight into the conversation. 

“Gee, you can have some of mine,” he sighed, reaching into his pocket. Eren and I froze mid-swear and watched him pull his wallet out. “So long as you’re not too loud.” Taking some packets out, he held them out to me. 

My shoulders slumped. 

They were fucking XXL. 

The silence dragged on for some time before Reiner realised both Eren and I looked awfully down-trodden. 

“Thanks man… I... er…” I glanced over at Eren. Shit. I did not want Jaeger to see this. 

“God, just take these,” Eren rummaged through his pocket and immediately held a strip of condoms to me. (Fucking normal sized ones thank Christ). “My respect for you will only grow if you stay honest right now.”

“Thanks man,” I took them, but immediately covered my face with my hand. “Reiner, please let us keep our dignity and put those away.”

Reiner stared at us clueless. Bastard. “Huh?”

“This never happened, right Jean?”

“Oh trust me, I’m never speaking of this again.”

“Er… guys? Why are you all comparing condoms out in the middle of the hotel restaurant?” Marco’s voice asked from behind me. 

Fuck. Marco was behind me.

The horror was probably painted on my face, judging by the way Eren didn’t even crack a joke when I peeked through my fingers and met his equally ashamed eyes. The room suddenly felt very stuffy as I gave an awkward laugh and turned to (try and) smile at Marco as he sat in the seat beside me. His expression was at ease as usual; a small smile that looked both amused and embarrassed as he looked between me and the condoms from Eren in my hand. 

“We… y-you…” 

Smooth Kirschtein. 

Jaeger was being severely unhelpful by taking the longest fucking sip of coffee I’ve ever seen. Reiner still looked relatively confused with our weird moods – not that he put away those blasted condoms. Marco seemed to be slowly piecing the bits and pieces together, and I’m pretty sure he was holding back a giggle. Instead, he turned to Reiner and spoke in a sing-song voice.

“Oh, Reiner! Mind if I borrow some of these for tonight?”

Eren choked again.

***

I didn’t correct Eren’s belief that Marco had a secretly huge dick. Do you know how hilarious it was to watch him looking at my ass in horrified sympathy all day? Pure. Gold.

I also discovered as the day went on that I am a fucking great actor. I mean, I managed to get through two scenes playing opposite Marco without accidentally revealing that pretty much all my thoughts consisted of ‘Fuck, I need to hit that properly’ and ‘Oh yeah, that’s my piece of ass right there’. When Marco was finished for the day and I had to shoot the scene that took place just after his character’s death, Eren even helped me get into character by muttering “Just remember the sight of lover-boy’s corpse lying there all torn and bloody”. I mean, sure, I punched him in the gut for it, but it certainly brought back the sickening sights from yesterday back to my mind’s surface. 

When we were finally being dragged back to the hotel, the whole cast and crew seemed exhausted. I couldn’t have been more excited at the prospect of getting back to my shitty flat with my shittier flatmates. Especially since I 100% planned to have a certain freckled man in tow. 

“I’m starving,” I grumbled as the car pulled into the hotel parking lot. Beside me Eren let out a noise that I think was some sort of agreement. All I wanted was to stuff my face full of dinner, have the wold’s hottest shower, and get down and busy with Marco – who, lucky sod, had been done with work since lunch like Reiner. Eren and I were pretty much crawling out of the car and into the hotel lobby when a huge ruckus inside woke us up. 

And most importantly, dampened any possible hope of Marco and I having some down-time tonight. 

“Jean!” A pair of arms snaked around my neck and the weight that was suddenly pressed against me nearly took me out completely. It took a few moments of tired and confused blinking before I realised that the person clinging to me was my agent, Hanji. 

Fuck. 

“Levi?” Eren’s voice squeaked from beside me. “What are you doing here?”

Double fuck. 

“Y-yeah, what he said,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh as I tried (and failed) to push Hanji’s head away from me. She seemed adamant that she was going to smush her cheek against mine. Behind her, I could see Marco lingering in the doorway into the dining room. 

Triple-mega-super fuck. 

“It’s your last day on location, and you know what that means?” Hanji sung as she finally loosened her hold on me. 

“You’re here to discuss my pay rise?”

The side of a hand came down hard on the top of my head. “Don’t get your hopes up,” Hanji warned. “It means we’re having a big party!”

“And by ‘big party’,” Levi interrupted as he approached. “She means we’re getting drunk at the bar.”

I caught Marco’s eyes from across the room and he gave a helpless shrug before pointing over to a group of people at the reception desk – one of which I recognised as his agent. 

Well, isn’t this all just great. It looked like my plans to tap that freckled ass were going out the window...

Sure enough, less than an hour later I was slumped at a table, surrounded by countless people working on the movie, and even more empty glasses. Since we had a few days off now, people seemed resolute to get the cast members as hammered as possible. Which was certainly not a hard feat, since people kept getting me drinks and I’d yet to buy a single one for myself. Beside me, Petra and Eren were singing the movie’s main song along with the people who’d arrived from the sound department – it was out of tune, loud, and just plain awful. 

My eyes kept drooping whilst I tried to keep myself awake – there was nothing worse than being a sleepy drunk – and I let my gaze swim through the ocean of people that had filled the hotel. It was a little while before I spotted my prey; he was leaning against the bar chatting to his agent and some other people I didn’t recognise. He was smiling way too much at them for my liking; especially when I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to him properly since I got back. 

Well, that needed to change. 

“I need t’ get… the boy…” Urgh, my voice was slurring just a little too much as I prodded the arm of the woman blocking my exit. I think it was that chick who was always with Christa? They had shown up sort of recently and were now sitting in the booth next to me, gossiping away with Reiner and Annie. Damn, what was her name again?

“Jean, can you even stand up?” Reiner asked from opposite me. The whole table turned their attention to me as I continued to tap the woman’s arm repetitively. 

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “Jus’ need t’ get out and see m’ Budt!”

“Are you trying to say Bodt or bud?” Ymir – Ymir! that was it! – asked. She still made no attempt to move for me. 

“'M tryna say butt!” The lights seemed terribly bright as I looked up at the ceiling. 

Hang on… why was I looking at the ceiling? 

And why was I slipping?

“Jean! The hell, man?” Eren’s voice ran from somewhere. I only answered with a little cackle as I slid down the booth seat until I landed on my backside under the table amongst everyone’s legs. 

I think they were all laughing and possibly trying to get my attention? But I was on a mission; one that involved crawling over everyone’s feet and squeezing out between two sets of legs in order to escape the confinements of my booth away from Marco. When I was finally out from under the table, I miraculously managed to push myself to my feet and earned a chorus of cheers from everyone who’d been watching. 

Now to just get to the bar…

If anyone asks, I got there all by myself. I sauntered up to Marco and rested an elbow on his shoulder whilst giving him the sexiest smoulder that anyone has ever seen in the world. Then the idiot chicks he was chatting with all hurried off since it was obvious the Bodt was totally into me. And, I don’t know, maybe we got busy right there and then. 

I most certainly did not take one step in Marco’s direction and immediately crumble to the floor when I discovered my legs were too weak to work. And it wasn’t Levi who I collapsed in front of. And it definitely wasn’t still Levi who grabbed me by my collar and hauled me up and across the room towards Marco. There’s also no way that the short-arse just threw my half-floppy body so Marco had to catch me quickly. 

But yeah, that was what happened. 

“Deal with him,” Levi sighed as he turned away. 

I, my head and stomach filled with the warm fuzziness caused by mixing more than seven different types of alcohol, clung to Marco for dear life and pressed my face into his chest. 

His laugh rang above my head and a warm hand patted my back. “Did someone have a little too much to drink, Jean?”

I just nodded. There was the muffled sounds of Marco talking to people for a while, but the longer I held onto him, the more out of it I became. In the end, it was only when I realised I was actually walking (with Marco supporting me) that I tried to pay attention to my surroundings again. 

“Didja blow th’ place?” 

“What?” Marco asked with a laugh. “I can’t understand you at all.”

When the fuck had we reached the elevator?

Since my words were obviously not coming across as clear as they were in my head, I didn’t bother replying and just hummed along with the ding from the elevator as the doors slid open for us. Marco pulled me inside; his arm stayed locked tightly around my waist as he pressed the button for our floor. As the doors slid closed and I let myself slump against his body, I peeked up at Marco. Jesus Christ, his freckles were good dancers. 

“Problem?” Marco asked as he caught me looking. 

“Jus’ apparition y’fashe,” was along the lines of what toppled off my tongue. 

“Oh dear Jean…” came the chuckle in reply. Twisting in Marco’s arms so I could face him, I wrapped my arms around his neck (why the fuck were my arms numb?) and tried to stretch up. He watched with an amused smile as I completely missed his lips and ended up kissing his chin – which was totally his fault for being in two places at once…

…Oh hang on, I may have been seeing double…

Another ding sounded as we reached out floor and, since I was being a total useless twerp, Marco had to pretty much half-carry, half-drag me out the elevator and down towards our room. He fumbled with the card key and then battled to push open the door and lug me through it. Pretty soon, he deposited me on his bed (it was nearer the door) and disappeared from my sight. 

“Marrrrco!” I called out, unable to gather the strength to lift my head up to look for him. 

“One second!” his voice responded. There was lots of noises that I couldn’t really identify – probably because there was a painfully violent party going on in my head. I grimaced and groaned, turning to bury my face in the duvet, and definitely not taking in a huge sniff of the scent of Marco that lingered in it. 

The mattress dipped beside me and a hand touched my back. “Here’s some water.”

I shook my head and gripped the duvet beneath me. Sitting up would certainly make my head explode. At this point, even breathing was slightly too strenuous. 

“Come on, Jean. Sit up,” Marco crooned. “Please?”

Ah, dammit. He was asking nicely. 

Though my eardrums were most definitely about to pop from how loud my pulse was, I reached out and grabbed Marco’s arm to help pull myself up. I immediately fell against his side for support and squinted to try and stop the room from spinning. 

“Drink up.” Marco lifted my hand to make me take the glass. He had to pretty much guide it to my mouth to make me take a sip. Since it was obvious I was quickly losing what little strength I had left in my arms, he decided against letting me hold the glass myself. 

“I wanted t’ do the thing t’night…” I grumbled as I rested my hand on Marco’s leg. 

“Yeah, well I don’t think you’d be able to do much in your state anyway,” he laughed. 

“Lies!” I shouted. “Cause… I’m justa sex machine, feedma fancy, gimme Marco’s booty!”

Wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I slumped further against him, Marco sighed. “Was that supposed to be Girl’s Aloud?”

“Head hurts…” 

“So I gathered,” Marco held the water in front of my face again. “Have a bit more to drink then you can go to sleep, yeah?”

“Don’ wanna…”

“What if I let you drink it from my mouth?” 

I lifted my eyes to meet Marco’s. He was seriously smirking. I don’t know if I liked this new confident sod he’d become since last night, but I also knew I wasn’t really thinking too much about it. In fact, I wasn’t even thinking about how hot the thing he was suggesting was… 

…I was thinking about all the alcohol in my stomach that was making its way back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up condom sizes for you guys.  
> I am forever scarred. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! It was rather fun to write - especially since it mainly meant I was tormenting poor Jean.  
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Alcohol is the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is never drinking again and despairs over the people he calls 'friends'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, wow guys... thanks so much for all the comments and kudos and stuff! Seriously, I get embarrassingly squeely and excited when I get an email of one!
> 
> So, yeah, these things are happening. I adore writing Jean's stupid housemates, and expect plot developments next chapter! Like, actual plot developments for Jean-boy.  
> Please enjoy!
> 
> ((You probbly all know and are probably sick of hearing that my tumblr is 'freckledbodty', but that's where I ramble about POH when I'm working on it ;) ))

My head was positioned squarely in between my knees. I should get a medal for managing to be so damn flexible in Levi’s stupidly cramped car. A warm hand rubbed circles into my back, and their owner spoke in a quiet, soft tone to try and comfort me. It may have been helpful if it wasn’t for the stench that was filling the car despite all the windows being cranked open. 

“If that shit touches any part of my car, you’re road kill!” Levi snarled at the person in the passenger seat. Eren had been hurling into bags pretty much every half hour or so throughout this four hour drive back home – and when he wasn’t, I was. The two of us had formed a strange comradeship over this terrible morning, cheering each other one throughout the torturous hangovers we’d both woken up with.

It had been originally planned that Levi and Hanji (who’d driven up together for the cast and crew ‘gathering’ we had that previous night) would take Eren and I back home, as many of the crew were staying on location to film some more of Reiner’s scenes. However, after we all met in the lobby this morning and Hanji caught a glimpse of the green tinge in mine and Eren’s faces, she bailed. 

Thankfully, that didn’t mean a sick Eren and I were stuck alone with the angry short-stop for the trip home, oh no, God sent down a heavenly messenger in the form of a certain freckled angel. 

So, yeah, long story short, Marco bagged a lift home off Levi too (and consequently, bagged the position of the car’s nurse). 

“Are you feeling any better, Jean?” aforementioned angel asked as he squeezed my shoulder. 

“I’m never drinking again,” I moaned. “Never. Ever. Again.”

Eren showed his agreement by pitifully throwing up yet again. 

There was a soft snort of amusement from Marco, and I felt the car start to slow. 

“Alright, throw his hung-over ass out before he starts spewing again,” Levi ordered. With Marco’s help, I sat up and realised we had come to a stop right outside the front door to my apartment complex. I was elated to get away from the smell – it only made me feel worse – but my body ached with every slight movement, and it was a painstakingly slow task getting out of the car and onto to the pavement. I turned to give my thanks and say goodbye, but found myself watching Marco clamber out after me. 

Reaching inside the open passenger window to take the full bag from Eren (who was immediately provided with a fresh one by Levi), Marco smiled and gave a grateful nod. “Thank you for the lift, sir. I’ll make sure Jean gets home and into bed.”

“Into a shower first, I hope,” Levi scoffed. His eyes looked my way, and I could have sworn they weren’t as fucking scary as they usually were… “Get better before the weekend’s over.”

I only nodded, and Marco began ushering me into my apartment building. As I glanced over my shoulder to try and say bye to Eren, I realised he wasn’t looking my way at all. He was still hunched up in his seat, bag to his face, clearly about to burst into tears (guy was probably holding it all in since I was there… couldn’t blame him). Levi was completely obvious to the fact he was still double parked and pissing off other drivers, and instead was muttering something to Eren. I quickly averted my gaze when he petted Jaeger’s hair a little too affectionately. 

I cannot begin to stress how grateful I was not to run into any of my neighbours in the lobby. The elevator we got in was empty too, and headed straight up to the fourteenth floor without any stops. Marco had insisted that he carry my bag – adamant that I could barely carry myself in my state. I would’ve disagreed, but he was totally right. 

When we stood in front of the flat door, Marco took it upon himself to open the door. This involved sticking his hand into my jeans front of his own accord to grab my keys (the only reason I didn’t thoroughly revel in the moment was because of how much the hallway was spinning. 

“Jean’s home!” a shrill voice shrieked as soon as the door swung open. 

“Jean! My love! Home from war at last!” another chimed in from a different room. 

Colourful curse words filled my head as I desperately tried to make Marco get in and over to my room as fast as possible before we were attacked. Unfortunately, my room just so happened to be the one at the very other side of the flat, and it wasn’t like I could move that fast anyway. 

Connie’s head peeked out from inside the living room, his broad grin fell into shook when he spotted Marco standing by my side. He just stood there, gaping and staring at disbelief for a moment before narrowing his eyes. 

“It’s the bodty-boy…” he whispered dramatically. 

Kill me now.

“Huh?” Marco asked, as adorably confused as some stupid little puppy. 

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse… it did.

Sasha came out the bathroom. 

Brushing her teeth.

In her underwear. 

Just her underwear. 

And by just her underwear, I mean just her knickers.

Numerous things happened at once after that. I couldn’t even begin to try and work out the exact succession, so you’ll just have to deal. 

Sasha started gaping just like Connie had. The toothbrush she was holding between her lips tumbled to the floor (don’t expect me to describe the mess that made on both the floor and her face). Marco’s body stiffened briefly before he tried to turn around and cover his eyes – forgetting that I was standing behind him and there was nowhere to run to other than into me. Connie leapt into action with the girliest scream I’ve ever heard, sprinting across the hall and tackling Sasha’s exposed chest. 

“Jean what are you doing?” Connie screeched towards me. 

“What the fuck do you mean, what am I doing?”

“You’ve let Sasha’s dignity be tainted!” 

“What fucking dignity?”

“Jean! Jean! That’s freckles right? You were doing the freckled butt, weren’t you? Connie! Jean’s brought his boyfriend home!”

“I know you’ve never seen one naked, Jean, but girl’s have different anatomies to us! And you’ve just let Sasha be seen!”

“He’s taller than you, Jean… Connie! That means I was right about the sex, right?”

“The hell? How many fucking times has Sasha stripped when she’s drunk?”

“Jean, are you the bottom?”

“That’s around our friends!”

“Is that why you look so pale? Did he ride your perky little ass till morning?”

“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Finally having enough, I grabbed Marco’s wrist and stormed down the corridor. Marco still had his reddening face hidden behind a hand, so it was my job to kick (and yes, I mean that literally) Connie out the way – making him fall onto Sasha. 

The last I knew before I got Marco and myself safely behind my bedroom door, was that there was nothing to see of the two idiots except their entwined legs sticking out the bathroom door after their fall. 

I fell against my door, running my hand that wasn’t still securely wrapped around Marco’s wrist over my face and up through my hair. Jesus fuck, I had never been so embarrassed in my life. And, apparently, neither had Marco – he was staring at my floor like he was wishing it would disappear and send him falling into a big black pit. 

“So… my flatmates get worse with every meeting… huh?” I offered, hoping it would lighten up the mood a little. 

Marco did look at me with a small smile of agreement. “Our bags are still at the door, you know?”

“That’s no problem…”

No, that really wasn’t the problem. 

Marco was saying something, but I was too busy noticing the problem. 

Then he was touching my arm, and I was too busy begging the problem to stay the fuck down in my stomach where it belonged. 

The problem came anyway. 

***

So, I narrowly avoided throwing up on poor Marco Bodt for a second time, only to throw up in my bedroom bin instead. Yet again, he took on the nursemaid role with ease and sat on the floor with me as I emptied my internal organs into the bin for the next fifteen minutes (I assume that’s what it was, since there was surely not enough food in my stomach by then). Somewhere in those minutes, the housemates-from-hell knocked on the door to announce they were heading out “to avoid hearing gross sex noises”. I tried to shout back that I dreaded to think what they sounded like it bed if me throwing up sounded remotely like sex noises, but I doubt the comment reached anyone’s ears but Marco’s. 

Once the idiots had left, Marco helped me to the bathroom; leaving me hanging over the toilet bowl as he went on search of a glass of water and something to settle my stomach. Before I knew it, he was back at my side forcing some sort of tablet down my throat. 

Another good fifteen minutes later and it seemed like my body was at least down with hurling – that or there simply was nothing else to hurl. Utterly exhausted, I flushed the toilet and leant back against the bath beside Marco. 

“Alcohol is my enemy…” I groaned. 

Marco’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently – I only realised because he shuffled closer so our sides were touching. “Only when you have as much as you did last night.”

“I hate everyone who let me drink to that state.”

“Does that mean you hate me?”

“Huh?” I rolled my neck until I was looking more in Marco’s direction. “You didn’t keep handing me drinks. I didn’t even see you until Levi tossed me at you.”

Marco’s head turned too. “I should have been sitting with you, though. So, technically, that most mean you hate me too.”

Yeah, he looked way too calm to be serious. This bugger was trying to make me say something. 

I frowned, dropping my gaze to the floor. Fuck, my cheeks were totally heating up. 

“Nah… I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Little shit. 

“… Hate you.”

“What! You hate me?”

“NO! I’d never hate you, idiot!”

It was only after I’d looked over to Marco in shock that I realised my outburst had been totally unnecessary, and I was playing right into this bastard’s hands. The stupid freckled hand of his that slowly crept across the space between us and covered my own. And he wore such a pleased fucking smile. He was so fucking adorable and I was seriously thinking that maybe I did hate him for making me blush as much as I was. 

“I… don’t hate you,” I repeated – this time significantly quieter. 

Marco chuckled and slowly started running his thumb across the back of my hand. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Jean.”

“Really? More romantic than ‘maybe I’m a little gay’?”

Marco’s laughter seemed to chime. I just sat there, content in watching the way his eyes creased, and his nose scrunched up a tad as he chuckled. Eventually, he fell silent and just gazed back at me. 

After a while, he sighed. “I really want to kiss you, right now.”

“Oh? Well please, come here and taste just how gross my mouth is right now.”

“Oh god, no!” I shifted towards him, grabbing at his shirt as he desperately tried to lean away from my puckered lips – laughter cutting his sentences up. “No, Jean, please! Ew! Spare me!”

He toppled over onto his side, and I let myself flop there, resting my cheek on his hip (and probably crushing his poor legs). 

“I’m tired…” I muttered. 

“Anyone would be after throwing up for nearly twelve straight hours.”

“Shut up.” I could have closed my eyes and fallen asleep right there; no matter how uncomfortable the position was, it was perfect for me with Marco’s warmth, and the feel of his body moving. 

He moved a bit too much, however, and then began pulling me up to my feet. “Come on, you need to get to bed and sleep the rest of this thing off.”

“Are you coming too?” I smirked as he led me back through to my room. 

“I do actually have a place to go back to, you know,” he sighed, digging through my drawers until he found something comfortable for me to wear. I guess he was looking for pyjamas, but I didn’t even own any, anymore: the pair of joggers he chucked at me were more than I usually wore. He then headed out to go get my bag from the doorway, whilst I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the trousers in my hands. When Marco returned, he placed my bag to one side and looked at me with an expression that sort of mirrored my mum when she found me both irritating and endearing. Hopefully Marco’s expression meant the same thing.  
“You supposed to get changed now.” 

I didn’t let how long my blinks were lasting stop me from pulling a smug-ass face. “Maybe you should just do it for me?”

Marco’s tongue briefly wet his lower lip, before he sucked his lips both in entirely. His mind was clearly reeling with (what I hoped was) a want he was trying to control. Finally, with a shake of his head, he moved across to my window and shut my curtains. 

The room was thrown into darkness except for the light that spilled in from the hallway through the open door. I watched Marco’s body moving back towards me, until he stood right in front of me – his legs touching my knees. There wasn’t a smile on his face now, and his hands ran along my shoulders before holding my arms and pulling me to my feet. 

Our chests were pretty much touching they were that close, and he made no effort to create any more or less distance. I stared at his face; the calmness of his body seemed to only just hide the intensity in his eyes as he stared to slip my jacket off my arms. It was discarded onto the floor without any thought as his fingers worked their way to the edge of my shirt. He pulled it off over my head and dropped it into the newly forming pile of clothes. My heart was pounding, and not because I was feeling sick. He gave me nothing but the slightest of touches, but it was overwhelming me. I was going mad; I just needed him to touch me properly. 

Marco’s eyes remained fixed on whatever his hands were doing, and when he undid the button of my jeans I let out an involuntary whimper of desperation that definitely made his lip twitch in pride. Rolling my waistband down, Marco moved them lower and lower, until – with one brief glance up to see my reactions, he knelt down. 

I was oblivious to the pain from how hard I was biting my lip; the sight of Marco on his knees in front of me was just too much for my brain to handle. When he made me step out of my jean legs one by one and tossed the trousers aside, my whole body trembled with excitement as he reached back up. Underwear going next… right…?

Wrong.

With the smuggest fucking smirk on his face, Marco reached behind me and grabbed the forgotten jogging bottoms off the bed. He made me step into those legs too and began pulling them upwards. He stood, dragging the waistband the rest of the way up until he let it rest of my hips, then looked up at me with a devilishly innocent smile.

“There,” he said. “I changed you.”

“I take it all back. I hate you. I definitely hate you.” 

He laughed again. The smugness slowly vanished and when he looked at me again he actually seemed as disappointed as I felt. “Sleep, and get better quickly, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled – still not entirely willing to forgive him so easily. “Text me when you’re home safe.”

“Ok.”

As I clambered into bed, Marco put my mobile and a fresh glass of water on my bedside table. He went off for a moment and returned with my bin (now empty and clean) to put it on the floor nearby ‘just in case’. He stayed lingering by my side, ordering me to close my eyes and sleep before he left. It was only when I turned onto my side and shut them like he told me to that he leant down and pressed his lips against my temple. I had to hold back another whimper. 

Then I had to listen as he said goodbye and headed out. My bedroom door shut, drowning me in the dark. I listened to his footsteps heading down the hall, him shuffle around in the doorway a little, and soon even the front door clicked shut. 

I pulled the covers over my head and curled myself as small as possible. 

I missed him already. My whole body seemed to ache more without him near. 

Fuck, I was in trouble.


	11. Flatmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean contemplates his choice of flatmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looong chapter ahoy!  
> But things happen. 
> 
> Please enjoy! And, as ever, my tumblr's 'freckledbodty' :)  
> (Seriously, someone needs to tell me how to add links into ao3 posts...)

When I woke up next, it seemed I’d slept for the rest of the day through to the following morning. I could hear movement someone in the flat, so that meant the terrible-two were back. Groaning at how stiff my body was as I turned over, I patted around the bedside table until I found my phone. The screen’s brightness had been turned right down so it didn’t blind me (that fucker Marco thought of everything, didn’t he?), and it said I had three unread texts. I read through them as I made myself sit up. 

_From: Marco Bodt  
Home safe and sound. Old man Tom wants tickets to the premiere! Haha._

_From: Sasha Braus  
Were bak jean! didn’t wanto wake u. sad 2 see freckles iz gone!_

_From: Marco Bodt  
Morning. Hope you’re feeling better, text me when you’re awake :)_

I was certainly not bothered about Sasha’s text from last night – though I was a little unnerved that it sounded like they’d peered in to check on me. I mean, what if Marco had stayed? We might have been… Oh god, I threw up on him… 

Well… maybe I shouldn’t think about that…

I shot a quick text to Marco saying I was up and well over my hangover, and also sent one to Jaeger hoping he’d fared better than me once he’d gotten home. Something told me he probably hadn’t. Still, at least I had the lovely nurse maid Marco – I couldn’t imagine clean-freak Levi was a great person to have around when you were throwing up. 

I pulled on a jumper, leaving it unzipped since my fingers apparently weren’t ready to work properly yet, and headed to the living room ignoring the dread building up in my stomach. 

Connie and Sasha were lounging on the sofa, the latest episode of the series Connie had a part in was on. They both peered over at me as I entered, clearly holding back the smirks that were trying to creep onto their faces. Instead, Sasha motioned to a spare chair and tossed another crisp in her mouth. 

“You drank that much, huh?” Connie asked as I fell into the seat and caught the coke can he’d thrown my way. 

“Yep.”

“And freckles brought you home?” Sasha was watching me carefully. 

“Levi, technically.”

“But freckles came with and tucked you up in bed?”

Sighing and snapping the can open, I frowned in their direction. “Do you even have a point?”

“Not really, we just wanted to know the goss. But it’s obvious you guys had some developments,” Connie shrugged innocently. Sitting up, he grabbed some paper of the table in front of him and held them out to me. “In other news, we got a letter from the landlord today.”

As I glanced through the papers I realised why the two were in ‘serious’ mode this morning. 

“We’ve got to decide if we want to sign up to keep this place for another year,” Sasha said, reaffirming what I was seeing in the letter. 

“But I thought we’d done that ages ago? Doesn’t the next contract year start next month? Why ask us again so late?” I sunk down into the armchair cushions. I hated all this adult stuff we had to deal with, and I really couldn’t see why this was cropping up now. 

Connie copied my sinking action with a sigh. “Apparently there’s some people who are desperate to move in. They’ve probably offered to pay more or something, so the landlords will be looking for someone to head out.”

“It’s going to be hard to find somewhere else at such short notice…”

“We don’t necessarily have to leave.”

Dropping the papers back down, I glanced across at my strangely quiet flatmates. Really, something was off here. I took a swig of my drink, my eyes keeping on them throughout. They had been subdued and shifty ever since this topic came up. I sighed. “So why do I get the feeling you two want to leave?”

Sasha flinched. Looked like I’d hit the mark. 

“It’s not that we want to leave…” she mumbled sheepishly, tapping her fingers together and avoiding meeting my eyes. “It’s just… places as good as this are expensive…”

She looked over to Connie for help. He smiled somewhat apologetically. “Sasha’s between jobs right now, and my character’s getting less and less screen time on the show. We were wondering if you’d be cool to look for somewhere cheaper.”

I was surprised. I guess I forgot that I was in a bit of different situation than the others; I had a lot of money saved up, and my family always gave me larger than necessary cash gifts on holidays – and the movie I was currently filming was the most I’ve ever gotten paid for a job. Of course I wasn’t struggling financially. If anything, I just felt embarrassed I hadn’t realised this might be a problem sooner. 

Connie and Sasha both looked really embarrassed, not to mention sorry, and so I laughed to try and ease the tension in the room. “Of course I don’t mind! I mean, cheaper’s always better, right?”

The relief on their faces made me smile. 

“But, you love this place!” Sasha reminded me. “And, it’s not like you’re struggling.”

“Hey, do you want me to say no?” I scoffed. “Besides, what fun would it be having you guys as housemates if I wasn’t actually living with you?”

“J-Jean!”

Shit, probably shouldn’t have said something so soppy…

Before I knew it, I was buried under the two idiots as they threw themselves at me, going on and on about how good a friend I was and other shit that embarrassed the hell out of me. Eventually, after I’d scrambled free of their hold, I was able to tell them to tell that landlord we’d start looking for somewhere else and headed off for a much needed shower. 

Pretty soon, I was wondering if I should change my mind and just get a place by myself without two bastard flatmates – the thought first came to mind when ten minutes into my shower Sasha burst in (got to get that lock fixed) and dragged my naked ass out the shower to say we were heading into the Recorn Corps office to ‘see the guys’. I would certainly keep what little of my sanity I had left if I had my own place. Then again, as the three of us made the short walk to the agency’s office, I figured I was putting a little too much faith in this current job – there was no saying money would stay steady after it, so I may be able to afford a place alone right now, that wasn’t to say I’d be able to in a few months or so. 

As we took the elevator up to the floor where our usual break room was, I’d decided it would be safer to just stick with sharing for now. 

There was a chorus of greetings as we reached the break room – the usual lot were there as always; Amin, Eren and Mikasa were sitting talking to my favourite agents Levi and Hanji, and even the CEO of the Corps, Erwin Smith, was there. 

Eren and I exchanged a knowing nod – both of us actually happy to see the other back on their feet after yesterday’s… yeah – and everyone looked somewhat surprised to see I sat down without even trying to start an argument with him. 

“How’s the shooting going, Jean?” Armin asked as I sat next to him. 

“Yeah, it’s good,” I nodded. I was slowly becoming aware that everyone was looking at me in a funny way (second time today, great). Figuring it was in my best interest not to ask and just avoid it, I folded my arms smugly. “Especially when I get to watch Jaeger piss his pants every time the pyrotechnics go off.”

“The fuck, man? I didn’t even flinch!” Yes, that’s right Eren, start a fight with me so I can dispel the feeling that everyone in this room knows something I don’t. 

“Yeah right, you almost cried like a baby!”

“Oh, you mean like you did over Marco’s fake death?”

There it was. 

The sharp elbow Mikasa shoved into Eren’s side made it obvious enough that he’d already spilled about that to everyone here, the lingering silence that lasted for a moment afterward only made that fact clearer. 

Bastard. Our temporary camaraderie was over. 

“I was getting into character,” I scoffed – if I could just pass it off as good acting, maybe I could get through this without too much shame. “Marco and my characters are best fucking friends, after all. Shame you can’t be that good an actor.”

I’d struck a nerve – it was written all over Eren’s reddening face. Dammit, if I hadn’t had to add in a snipe at him… 

His lips twisted into a cruel grin. “Didn’t have to take the fucking part so seriously.”

“Least I’m not fucking the short-ars–” 

My sentence was cut off with a sudden croak as I realised what words were coming out of my mouth, and who was still in the room… just a little way behind me. The horror that passed over pretty much all my friends’ faces said that the footsteps I heard were a certain short-arse stepping closer to me. 

Fuck everything. 

“Why’ve you stopped talking, Jean?” Levi’s voice coldly asked near my ear. My mouth was still hanging open, the words were still half-formed on my tongue, and I was so fucking dead. 

Goodbye mum and dad. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more. Goodbye Sasha and Connie. Sorry you’ll have to clean out the porn mags from under my bed, but please don’t let my parents do it. Goodbye Marco. Sorry I got drunk and sick and stopped us from taking our last chances to finish what we started that night. Goodbye Eren. You’re an asshole. 

A hand grabbed my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Kirschtein? Why’ve you suddenly stopped talking?”

If anyone asks, I did not whimper in fear. 

But I will admit to how fast I leapt out of that chair and ran across the room when my phone started ringing loudly in my pocket – I’m fucking proud of the speed I executed there. 

“Hello?” I pretty much cried into the phone as I pressed the answer call button. I kept my back to everyone, but I could still feel Levi’s chilling eyes on me. 

“Jean?” Oh sweet freckled angel of mercy. “You sound weird, are you ok?”

“Oh! Right, sure thing! I’ll get there right away!” 

“Huh? Wha– Jean?”

Holding the phone to my chest (demon Levi probably had some sort of super hearing that might catch Marco’s confusion), I laughed loudly and said there was an emergency I had to attend to. Then I got the fuck out of that building. 

After asking Marco to wait until I got down and out of the elevator, I sighed loudly into the receiver and stepped out of the office building into the warm breeze. “You have no idea how much I owe you right now.”

Marco chuckled. “Do I want to know?”

“I may have called Levi a short-arse, and heavily implied to a large room that he was sleeping with Eren…” I started wandering down the street towards home.

“Isn’t that sort of true though?”

“Yeah, but I said it,” Another shiver ran down my spine as I realised I’d still have to face him again. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“Oh, well I was hoping you were home so I could drop by, but I suppose you’re not…?”

“Well, I’m just ten minutes away? So I’ll still get there before you.”

“I’m actually in town at the moment. Just walking through the park near yours.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ok, well… I could just meet you there, if you want? What? You missing me that much already?”

“Hardly,” Marco scoffed, but I definitely heard a smile in his voice. “I just had something to tell you.”

“Oh, you mean about how wonderful, sexy and talented I am? I already know all that.”

“Just get to the park, you dork.”

He hung up before I could answer. I stared down at his name on the screen with a stupid smile growing on my face. Slipping it away, I quickened my pace. 

The park near mine wasn’t one of the main one’s in the city, but it was pretty much dog-walking central for this part of town. There was also a play park stuck in one corner, but there were never many kids there – families tended to move to the other side of the city where the schools were closer and the nightlife was further. Marco was sitting one on the benches overlooking the empty playground when I got there.

He had his eyes glued to some papers he held – a paper folder sitting open on his lap – and was utterly oblivious to my approach even when I was standing directly in front of him. In the end, I plonked myself down beside him, shuffling as close as possible without it looking weird to anyone nearby. He didn’t jump at my arrival, but he did do a double take before smiling. 

Ah, how I’d missed that smile. 

You know… since I saw him yesterday.

I needed to get a grip…

“So, go ahead and start telling me how amazing I am,” I said. “I can take it.”

That earned me a bat on the head with the pieces of paper. 

“I think… I probably need your advice.”

The seriousness in Marco’s voice made me put my jokes aside. I leaned into the bench, stretching my arm out along the back of it, behind Marco as I tried to scan what he was holding. I didn’t really need to, since Marco went on and told me what was up. 

“My landlord’s niece just split up with her boyfriend, and so she’s wanting to move out her place. It’s not too far from here actually, nearby the public library, a nice apartment building. She wants to rent the place out, and…” Marco frowned, resting back against the bench (and consequently, Jean’s arm). “Basically, Old man Tom said she’ll rent it to me at a lower price, since he knows I don’t want to be stuck with a bunch of students so far away from work and… well, the city life, I suppose.”

Jean decided to put aside the strangeness of both of them looking into moving, and shot Marco a smile. “What’s the problem then? Is the place nice?”

“The place is great! It’s open-plan, bathroom, two bedrooms. The apartment building has a rooftop terrace they all share, and even a garden. Not to mention how close it is to public transport and the shops...”

“So what’s the problem? It sounds like a kick-ass deal.”

Marco met Jean’s gaze, and Jean realised just how much worry was in his eyes. “Our movie is my first job, and yeah it pays well, but who’s to say that’s going to continue afterwards? The rent’s cheaper than what the place is worth, but it’s still not exactly cheap,” Marco’s eyes widened as if he was suddenly realising something. “And what if the neighbours hate me? Or I set the fire alarm off? What if a burglar breaks in and I just totally freeze? What if I need to put some shelves up? I’ve never put up shelves before, Jean! Isn’t that something you’re meant to be able to do when you live by yourself?”

I couldn’t help it any longer: I laughed. Oh, I laughed. I laughed until tears started to appear. Marco just sat there, staring at me in disbelief.

“Jean!” he cried as I bent over, clutching my stomach as the fit of laughter continued. “This is a serious problem I have!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know! You can’t put up shelves!” I covered my mouth, desperately hoping it would at least stop some of the snorts. Once I felt myself calm down, I shook my head and leant over to drop it on Marco’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Marco, I’ll put up any shelves you need, alright?”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘I bet you can’t put up shelves either’, but I let that pass. Instead, I just sat there, taking the chance to be near Marco as my forehead stayed stuck to him. He made no move to shrug me away. 

“Really though, everyone freaks out when they live totally independent for the first time. You should have seen me in the first week I got my place, and at least I had Connie and Sasha.”

“I can’t imagine they were much support,” Marco said, his voice slightly calmer now at least. 

“True… hopefully when we move this time, they’ll actually pull their weight unpacking.”

“Huh?” I was suddenly pulled from Marco’s shoulder. My forehead felt cold without his body heat. “You’re moving?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, we only just decided this morning so I didn’t get a chance to tell you. The others can’t afford our place anymore, and there’s stuff with the landlord that means now’s a good chance to leave.”

Marco nodded slowly, as if he was slowly taking in what I just said. He bowed his head and stared at the folder in his lap thoughtfully. “But you can afford it?”

“Hm? Yeah. Like you said, the movie pays well right now.”

“Well maybe you should just always be around the flat in case of a shelf-needing emergency…”

“What!”

“What?” He flinched at my shout, turning to me blushing this amazing red. 

“Marco, what do you–?”

He dropped his eyes back to his hands again, fidgeting and fumbling nervously with the folder. “I’m just saying it’s a two bedroom place.”

“WHAT?”

“What?” My shout had been louder this time, and he’d jumped higher. He went to clamber up off the bench, but I grabbed at his hands. The things in his lap toppled down to the ground as I tugged his body round to face me. He kept his head stubbornly turned to the side.

“Marco,” I tried to keep my voce low and serious, but I felt it shaking slightly. “Are you asking me to get a place with you?”

“No!”

“You totally are!”

Slowly, he built up the confidence to look directly at me. Seeing his blushing, mortified expression only made me more embarrassed. The two of us sat there, staring at one another, as the world went on around us and we tried to process just what was happening. Then we both snapped. 

Releasing my hold on him, I pretty much leapt to the other side of the bench, putting as much distance between Marco and myself as possible. The two of us started our embarrassed fake laughter at pretty much the exact same time (it did a good job of covering up just how fast my heart was pounding). 

“It’s waaaay too soon to be thinking about that sort of stuff, huh?” Marco gasped – his chortling didn’t even sound slightly real. Not that my own was much better. 

“Yeah… I mean, who moves that fast, seriously? It’s just not realistic,” I quickly agreed. 

“We aren’t even dating yet or anything!”

“Exactly! I mean, so what if I’ve been pining after you for months, and you’ve apparently been doing the same?”

“Even people in serious relationships don’t live together until like years after being together.”

“And even without those feelings, we’ve been pretty much best friends since the day we met.”

“It’s totally stupid to just jump into this kind of thing on a whim.”

“Though it is pretty much fate that I’m looking to move out just as you’ve been offered a two bedroom place.”

“JEAN!” Marco shouted, turning to me in either anger or fear. “You’re talking yourself into it!”

It was my turn to fidget with my hands awkwardly. “Yeah, well, maybe I am.”

“We’re not just deciding to live together for the hell of it!”

“Why don’t we decide to live together on the basis that I totally have it bad for you, and I’d take any chance to always be near you, and this is fucking fate right here! Why don’t we just take a chance? If it means I have to move out again after a few weeks, so be it, but I can’t help feel we shouldn’t let this opportunity slip away.”

I was panting by the time I’d finished yelling. There were probably people in the park who’d heard that, but I really didn’t have the time to be worried about what strangers were thinking, I was much more concerned about the very silent Marco Bodt. Still, I’d come to my conclusion: this had to be fate of some sort – from the moment I met Marco every second with him was just too perfect, and so I had a tough time believing this was just a huge coincidence that we were both thinking of moving. My heart just wouldn’t calm down; it was beating at a speed that left me a little short of breath, and it was going so strong my body ached with the pounding. 

Daring a glance to the side, I flinched to find Marco was still staring open-mouthed in my direction. It took him a second to register that I was looking his way, and he clapped a hand over his red face. 

“This… is a really stupid idea…” His voice was muffled. “Really stupid…”

I found myself smiling. Really, I was in way too deep here. Marco Bodt would one day be my downfall, I swear. He was just too perfect. 

Etching over a little, I reached out towards his knee and knocked it with my knuckles. “Is that a yes?”

Marco let out a loud groan and dropped his head in his hands. “How did you turn it round to make it that you’re asking me now?”

I chuckled and my hand crept up to rest on Marco’s thigh, giving it a brief squeeze to draw his attention back my way. “Marco? Is it?”

He peeked up at me from between his fingers. Then he sat upright and covered my hand with his own. I was distracted by his soft fingers slowly entwining themselves with mine (and then, panicking over the fact my hands were totally sweaty), and didn’t notice him lean in. 

His lips caught mine effortlessly but moved away almost immediately. The brief flutter in my chest starting to quickly vanish as I assumed that was all I was going to get when I felt Marco’s fingers on my cheek. He traced them down my jawline until I tilted my head up to meet his mouth one more, and this time, he started to move his lips against mine. It was all I could do not to grab him, pull him closer, do whatever I needed to in order to try and appease my need for him; but some small part of my mind reminded me that we were outside. Then again, even that part of me didn’t stop me for kissing Marco for all he was worth right then. 

The hand on my neck wasn’t possessive or controlling, it simply stroked my skin, raising goose bumps of pleasure. And his lips… they were so tender and caring, I had to wonder if they were actually for someone like me. As we finally pulled apart, opening our eyes to take in one another, Marco’s gaze erased any of those doubts; there was no way anyone could look that way at someone without really, truly meaning it. 

He pulled me closer again, this time planting a brief peck on my check before whispering into my ear. “Bagsy the bigger bedroom.”

“Fuck you, Marco Bodt.”


	12. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean gets grumpy when Marco is about to head home, and so turns the story into one where I must change the rating to 'explicit'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating change, because. Also, supremely long chapter.   
> Also also, I don't know how to smut.
> 
> Please enjoy! And, as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com).

“Are your current housemates going to have problems if you leave?” 

“We haven’t even started looking for a place. Besides, two-bed flats will probably be cheaper than three-bed, so it may work out better for them I’m not joining.”

Marco and I stood at the bus stop near the park. He’d said he had to head home to talk to Old man Tom about getting another viewing for me to see the flat, and then discuss rent. Since I was moving in with him (oh good god, that’ll never not sound weird as fuck), we could offer to pay a higher price – or at least one that wasn’t completely cheating the owners.

It was getting to lunch time, so the stop was rather busy and there weren’t any spaces inside the shelter, never mind on the seat in it. We didn’t mind, and stood outside patiently, just close enough together for our shoulders to be touching. The clouds looked a little grey and threatening, but I was still on such a buzz from mine and Marco’s talk in the park that I simply didn’t care anymore.

“I’ll have to check which furniture is included, so I can tell you,” Marco said thoughtfully. Ever since the kiss in the park earlier, there’d been this adorable little smile on his face (which only made me feel giddier at everything). 

Urgh, love was disgusting and cheesy. I hope this continued forever. 

“Hey, we’re going to have such a beautiful living room when we combine all our consoles together. Does the place have a big TV?”

When I turned to Marco for an answer I realised his smile had gone, and he was glancing nervously towards the bus shelter. I peered past him to try and see what he was looking at, only to find I was being stared back at. 

By. The. Whole. Shelter. 

There were like 10-15 standing around that shelter to our right, and they were all gawking at us. One particular pair of teenage girls had such ridiculous expressions that I couldn’t help but glare at them to try and make them stop. All they did was turn to whisper excitedly to one another. 

“What the fuck they looking at?” I muttered coldly. It wasn’t like Marco and I were doing anything wrong. Hell, we weren’t even doing anything to draw attention to ourselves. The way they were looking at us, we could have been fucking right here in the street – but we sure as hell weren’t doing that ~~unfortunately~~. 

Marco stepped away from me, moving towards the shelter like he was onto something. Once he was inside, he turned to look at the screen on the inside that we couldn’t see from where we were standing. 

His jaw dropped. 

“What?” I called, panicking slightly and rushing over to see what had got him like that. 

My jaw dropped. 

There, plastered over the bus shelter, was a poster. A poster with mine and Marco on it. 

There we were, standing in the rubble with the destroyed town in the background, our faces dark as we stared out of the poster. Marco sitting on a wall, elbows on his knees, hands folded as he leant forward towards the camera. I stood behind, the scowl on my face a deep contrast to the soft sadness seen in Marco’s. And, of course, across the bottom of the poster in obnoxiously large writing was ‘Humanity’s Last Hope: In cinemas this June’.

“That’s sort of surreal…” My voice cracked as I spoke. 

There was a sudden surge of excitement around us; apparently how reactions had confirmed that we were indeed the actors in the poster to the onlookers around us, and I could almost feel them about to pounce. 

Mercifully, before anyone had a chance, the bus arrived. Its screeching brakes sounded just like freedom. We were in the city, so the people around had no choice but to move their focus from us and onto getting on the bus as fast as possible to secure a seat. 

Marco sighed loudly beside me. “Yeah… really surreal.”

We exchanged smiles, before Marco realised he had to get on the bus before it left without him. He stood at the back of the line and waved as he begun to take his wallet out his pocket. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling my whole body just draining of energy as I watched him leave. It was stupid how much the world turned greyer just from him stepping away. Glancing along the bus windows, I spotted people still staring out at me and pointing forward to Marco – who was now one person away from paying for his ticket. 

Yeah, no. He wasn’t leaving me yet.

My hand reached out, grabbing the back of his shirt and hauling him backwards off the bus. He let out a small squeak of fright as he tripped over the step and nearly fell over – I caught his arm and kept him upright though. He turned to see what had happened, which also gave him a chance to balance on me, but I was busy waving the driver to go forward to properly reply to him. 

“Hey!” Marco exclaimed as he turned round to see the bus doors closing without him on. The people on the bus were laughing as I smiled innocently at Marco, keeping a tight hold on him. 

It wasn’t until the bus had vanished down the street that Marco turned back to me with a frown. “Jean. What are you doing?”

I grinned. “I just realised that I’m not sick anymore.”

“So I gathered. But that doesn’t explain–”

“And my annoying flatmates are out right now.”

“Jean! What’s this got to do with–”

I tugged him closer, my lips hovering by his ear. “And I’ve actually got condoms on hand at home.”

“Wha… Oh!”

Marco’s body froze as I leant back from him. His cheeks were bright red as his mind was clearly working to process this new information. A second passed, and he gave a light chuckle, looking at me with a gaze warm as can be, whilst still saying ‘you little shit’. Yep. That’s right, Marco. I’m a little shit who’s about to drag you back to his house and finally fuck you properly. 

Well… or something that sounds slightly more romantic.

As we turned to make our way to my building, I wondered if we’d given the people on the bus enough fanservice to get them to watch Humanity’s Last Hope and expect Jake and Chris to end up together. I hoped so. I was already sort of looking forward to seeing the fanart. 

It was already a miracle that Marco and I managed to walk down the street in silence, so it was really no surprise that the moment we stepped into the lift in my building Marco slammed me against the wall. 

I’ll admit, it was kind of hard to kiss him back when I was sniggering away at myself with pride, so it wasn’t like the quick elevator-makeout-session really got anywhere. Marco leant away from me, breathing in deeply and then letting it all out in a great sigh as he gave me the most exasperated look possible. 

“Really, Jean?” he said. “You make me miss my bus home, then drag me back to yours, only to laugh the whole way through the kiss?”

“You talk like I’ve turned you off.”

“Smug-ass-sniggering can do that,” Marco pointed out, desperately trying to hold back the smirk pulling at his lips. 

“Hmm?” Wrapping my arms round him to cup his ass, I pulled Marco’s waist forward until I could roll my hips against him. He sucked in a breath. “You sure ‘bout that?”

The life gave a ding as it came to my floor, and I quickly slipped away from Marco to head out as the doors open. My fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled him along behind me, he groaned my name impatiently. By the time we reached my door, Marco was clinging to my back, nuzzling into the crevice of my neck. I couldn’t get that bastard door open quick enough. 

I barely got more than two steps into the flat before I was spun around and Marco’s lips were pressed against mine again. This time though, there was no laughing, just a SLAM as Marco kicked the door shut behind him and our arms locked around one another. 

As his arms traced down my back, a shiver made my body contort and I once again rolled my hips against Marco – it wasn’t even on purpose this time, but Marco still moaned softly against my lips. I felt every breath, every trailing touch so much more than I should have. As Marco’s arms reached my waist, they took a tight hold around my rear and hoisted me upwards–

Wait. What?

Snapping my eyes open, I tore away from the kiss and looked down only to find my feet weren’t on the floor any more. I glanced around a little more, baffled at the change in events, before looking back at Marco with a loud “Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry needlessly lining his features.

“You’re holding me!” I shouted. 

He blinked, and immediately started looking nervous. “Is that bad…?”

“No! It’s not bad just…” I looked him up and down again. “Where the fuck did that hidden arm strength come from?”

“Well I am taller–”

“Shut up.”

I decided to just go with it, and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, lowering my lips to his neck. He started moving, managing to hold me up and get my bedroom door open without any problem at all. I stretched against him, using his arms to push myself higher and be the one looking down on him for once. He cocked an amused eyebrow once he realised what I was doing, but gladly accepted my lips as they approached. 

It was a short, sweet kiss… and then he dropped me. 

“Shit!” I screamed as I fell onto my mattress. I clutched at my chest, gasping. 

Marco laughed. “I did let go on purpose, because I knew the bed was there, you know,” He sat down on the bed beside me, pulling me a touch closer. “I’d never drop you, Jean.”

“Jesus, Marco, if you don’t get naked right now, I swear…”

We both took it upon ourselves to pull our tops off (there was no way in hell I was going near his shirt after the last disaster), and kicked our shoes off whilst we were at it. Once we turned back to one another, we started giggling like teenagers. It was ridiculous; sitting their next to each other on the edge of my bed, topless and just… laughing. I don’t know what brought it on; maybe it was because we both looked so stupidly _happy_.

“You sure have freakishly secret muscles though,” I muttered, poking at one of his biceps. “I mean, yeah you’re a tiny bit taller, but I’m still broader than you.”

“I don’t think you are, Jean,” Marco snorted. 

“I am! Look!” I crawled closer, turning Marco so his upper half was facing mine, and pressed our chests together. 

Yeah, I wasn’t broader. 

“Well fuck…” I muttered once I realised Marco’s shoulders were indeed wider than mine. I scowled, raising my gaze to meet his eyes and expecting to see him sitting there like a smug bitch. 

He wasn’t. 

He was looking down at me with a smile. The affection behind it was something that I’d never really seen before. Well, at least, not directed my way. Cupping my face in his hands, Marco pressed our foreheads together and closed his eyes lazily. 

“My heart’s racing…” he whispered. 

I reached up and covered his hands with my own. They were so warm. Closing my eyes like him, I let myself bask in the feel of him against me. “Mine is too.”

I don’t think either of us even opened our eyes, but our lips somehow found each other again. The tenderness of it all was almost unbearable, and as I ran my hands down Marco’s arms, he sighed contently against me. 

My hands travelled further, slowly unbuttoning his jeans as his tongue brushed along my bottom lip. Once they were undone, I softly pushed him backwards, lowering myself down with him. 

“Lift your hips,” I told him in a break in the kiss. With a small nod, he did so I broke away from him and went to pull his trousers off completely. Once they’d been tossed over my shoulder, I crawled up over him, telling him he could drop his hips again by grinding mine against them. He lay there, chest heaving with excitement as I showered his torso with as many kisses and bites as I could. My hand rubbing up and down his thigh, until I figured he deserved me to move it a little higher. 

My teeth teased a nipple as my hand started to palm his underwear, and Marco let out the most wonderful shaky gasp of pleasure. I kept my attention focused solely on his body; the moment I got distracted by his perfect sounds, I’d just want to kiss him. The focus worked against my favour when I didn’t realise Marco calling my name. 

“Jean!” He sat bolt upright, which knocked my head a little seeing as I had been biting at his stomach. Stopping my efforts, I peered up at his red, desperate face questioningly. “Where’s the things?”

Ah shit. They were in the bathroom. 

Removing my hand from his rather needy crotch, I planted a swift kiss on his cheek. “One second.”

I rushed out the room (it was probably a good thing I had to leave, since only then did I realise my bedroom door had been left wide open. I began to pull it shut behind me, when I turned back to Marco and licked my lips. “Don’t let yourself get bored.” I’m pretty sure the corner of his mouth quirked upwards as I went into the hallway, shutting the door with a click. 

I took the opportunity of hurrying down my hallway to get myself out of my own trousers, hopping about as I pulled them off each of my legs. I left them lying on the floor somewhere, and skidded into the bathroom. I cursed as I opened the cabinet where we kept all the toiletries and crap: I certainly wouldn’t miss how fucking untidy Sasha and Connie were. I dug through tampons and empty deodorant bottles until I finally found the condom box and a new bottle of lube (one I may or may not have had to buy myself ‘just in case’ back when I was suffering through my unrequited crush on freckles). 

Then I heard the front door open. 

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

Slamming the cabinet shut, I stepped back into the hallway, glowering at the people who’d just come in. I didn’t even care that I was half-hard, in my underwear, and holding what I was. I just glared. 

Hell, I didn’t even care that it wasn’t just Connie and Sasha who were confronted with me in the hallway, but also Eren, Armin and Mikasa. 

“Turn around and leave. Right. Now,” I growled at them, keeping my voice as quiet as possible in the hopes that Marco wouldn’t hear. My words were met with a mixture of horrified stares and speechless gawking. “I swear,” I went on. “If you guys ruin this for me, I will hunt you down, and tell you in the _greatest_ of details, what you took away from me today.”

There was a chorus of nods, and they all began to back out the apartment – Connie dragging a motionless Sasha out with him. As soon as their asses were out, I put the fucking latch on.

Yeah, I’d probably regret that later, but at least my Bodty time wasn’t disturbed (I hoped). 

Rushing back to my room, I let the door swing open and was about to wave the condoms at Marco smugly… but I dropped them instead. 

Marco had moved to the very back of my bed, propping himself up against the wall. His eyes locked with mine, eager and impatient, as he stroked himself – underwear nowhere to be seen. I bit my lip, but that didn’t stop the pitiful, needy whine that escaped my throat. Marco smirked. 

“I’m getting bored.”

The door was shut, condoms back in my hand, and I was on the bed before he could say anything else. He let out a gorgeous laugh as I pounced him, my hands and lips attacking everywhere I could touch, and quickly knotted my fingers into my hair as my teeth tugged at his lip. 

“What was that noise outside?” he asked into my ear as I tried to suck on his jaw and strip myself of my underwear at the same time. 

“Nothing. I was just annoyed at how messy the cupboard was,” I lied, throwing my boxers over my shoulder and holding myself over him just to take him in. The clusters of freckles, the excited smile, even his stupidly adorable ears: they were all mine. 

It was actually as I proved this point by nibbling on one of his ears that I utilised the bottle in my hand. I wasn’t exactly practised in this area of… intimacy… but I knew what I had to do, at least. I flicked the cap off the top and sat up in order to squeeze a decent amount into my palm…

“Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“That won’t really work unless it’s on your fingers…”

My lips pursed together as I look down at the clump of clear gel in the centre of my hand. “Ah,” I said. “You have a point…”

Marco chuckled lightly and sat up. “Here.” He pulled me hand towards him, swirling his first two fingers around in it. Jesus Christ, it was his fingers and they still somehow turned me on. 

“Move off him?” he asked, shuffling a little to get out from under me. I slid away, kneeling on the mattress down from him feeling more than a little incompetent. 

But… Marco managed to make me feel better. Much better. 

Leaning a little to the side and pulling one leg up, he moved his fingers down and pushed them inside himself. My breath caught, and I found myself leaning forward to watch as Marco began moving his fingers in and out. His face was screwed up to begin with, but slowly the discomfort in his eyes began to fade and his breath became ragged. Before I even really knew it, my hand was around my dick, the remaining lube on the palm a little cold and making it all the more sensitive. 

“Shit, Marco…” I breathed, my whole body growing hot from my hand’s stimulation. 

The freckled tease peered over at me, somehow managing to look smug whilst breathing as heavily as he was. His eyes flicked down to my moving hand and seemed to linger there just a touch more than he probably intended them to. “Problem, Jean?”

He added the third finger and sucked a breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He was keeping relatively quiet, and yet I ended up moaning just from watching him. “Can I fucking get over there yet?”

“No one’s stopping you, you know.”

I fucking leapt at him. 

I kissed him harder than ever before, drowning in his taste as my tongue grazed the roof of his mouth. My nails trailed down his torso, drawing a small groan from him, as I settled myself properly between his legs. He lifted his hips of his own accord, stretching his arm down to pull my hip towards him. 

“Hurry,” he moaned into my lips. 

“Pushy,” I taunted. But even as I said it I was fumbling around to search for the condom. I pulled away from him just long enough to tear the packet open and slide it on, then I was getting myself into position. 

As I pushed in, I gasped. The heat, the feeling of Marco tight around me, it was just torture in the best sense of the word. Marco made the smallest, sweetest moans as I edged my way fully inside. 

Slipping my arms under him, I held Marco as tightly to me as I could. Breathing in the scent as we clung to one another. I could feel his heartbeat hammering away under his chest, and I was sure he could feel mine just as much. I could have lain there all day long, just feeling Marco in my embrace. 

But, you know, dicks and stuff. 

“Marco…” I murmured into his ear. “Can I move?”

“Mhmm,” and a nod was my response. He was pressing his head right against my neck, and as I gave the first thrust, I felt his teeth biting down on me. The spark of pain ran through me, and only pushed me further. 

My hips found their rhythm on their own, and my body just followed suit. It was like I was being dictated to by… well, my dick. (Haha. Oh god, this was not the time to be making puns). The harder and faster my hips pounding into him, the louder and more frequent those intoxicating sounds of Marco’s came. It was all too much; the ecstasy my body felt, the smells and sounds overtaking my senses. And then there was just the simple fact I _knew_ the person in my arms was _Marco_. That thought alone was enough to send me out of my mind. 

I leaned back, breaking the embrace and watching with half-lidded eyes as Marco fell back against the mattress. His face contorted in bliss, hands grabbing desperately at the pillows by his head. He’d gasp my name, sending shivers through me. My hands tightened around his hips and I made one last effort to drown myself in the pleasure. 

I came. Toppling over the edge with a badly held-back moan. The height seemed to hit every inch of me, and a moment later I was swamped by the chilly after-shock. Marco had opened his eyes to watch, and the moment I caught him looking I dropped back down for a chance to utterly ravish him. My hand wrapped around his shaking cock, pumping it to try and get him to feel the same ending I just had. It didn’t take long; and he let out a strangled cry against my lips as the warm liquid squirted into my hand. 

The two of us lay there, clinging to one another and trying to catch our breath. The after-glow lingered, and I rested my forehead against Marco’s shoulder. His arms wrapped around my back. 

“Shit… I really love you,” I muttered.

He gave a tired chuckle, and stroked my back. “I love you too, Jean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of movie fanart, have you all seen [this perfect creation](http://hdotk.tumblr.com/post/83729394589/my-hands-reached-his-neck-my-fingers-slipped) by hdtok? Because it's perfect. Yes.


	13. Golden Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agents are huge busy-bodies, but at least they get the job done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the (not so hidden) SNK character special guest!  
> I don't know why I'm updating so quickly, don't expect it to continue. It's a miracle, is what it is.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr here](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Also, I've had a few people ask me now on tumblr about writing a spin-off from Eren and Levi's point of view... is that something people would be interested in? ~~I don't know about my ability to write them~~

I have never felt more in love with my bed than when Marco was in it tangled around me. We didn’t sleep so much as just lie quietly together for a while; the only conversation that passed between us was the odd hum whenever one of us shifted slightly. In the end though, Marco muttered something about actually having to get home at some point today, and asked to borrow the shower. 

The moment he left the bed, I turned onto my stomach and wrapped my arms around the pillow he’d been using. I lay there, listening to the distant sounds of the shower water running and Marco’s crappy voice singing some crappier song. I must have actually dozed off for a bit then, since next time I opened my eyes Marco was sitting on the edge of the bed pulling his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to go,” I muttered, waving my hand out to try and grab the back of his jacket (I couldn’t reach so it just sort of flailed around in mid-air). 

“Do you want to get a flat with me or not?” Marco sighed, turning to catch my hand and squeeze it. “I’ll see you on set tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mhmm…” 

Beside me Marco moved, so with a heavy sigh I started to clamber out from under the covers.

“You don’t have to see me out!” he protested when he noticed I was trying to follow him out the room. 

I just flashed him a smile. “But I want to.”

There was a brief moment where we just stared each other down, before Marco shook his head and pointed to something behind me. “At least put on some pants?”

I groaned loudly, turning on my heel to stagger over to my drawers and pull on a pair of boxers. “The things I do for you,” I muttered as returned to following him down the hallway. My trousers were still just lying in the centre of the corridor, which earned a small chuckle from Marco as he stepped over them. 

“Think you’ll be able to get through the scenes tomorrow without calling me ‘Marco’?” he asked as he stepped out of the flat. I leant against the doorframe, a smirk rising to my face at his smug-ass grin. 

“Mm, if I feel like it,” I prodded him in the chest softly. “It’s a good thing you’re almost done with filming; I doubt you’ll be able to concentrate acting across from me.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because of this.” I smacked my backside with a sly grin. 

… which slowly began to disappear as I realised just how fucking hard that smack had been…

Marco folded his arms and stared down at me in amused pity as I clutched my ass cheek, groaning at the pain and rubbing it in a desperate attempt to quell the sting. Fuck, that really hadn’t been as smooth as I’d planned.

A hand covered the one of mine on my ass, pulling me out the doorframe and forward to meet Marco’s lips. It was just a chaste kiss, and he ran a finger along my jawline as he pulled away – which only made lean forward in an attempt to chase after his lips. I pouted; this bugger had totally one-upped me there, huh?

The hand he still had on me slowly edged down, until his fingers were tracing the skin of my thigh just where the boxers ended…

“Afternoon, boys.”

I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as Marco did in that moment. He leapt back from me, turning a vibrant red as a woman passed between us towards her apartment next door. She was carrying a load of shopping bags and looked more drained than bothered by our little scene. 

“Miss Langnar…” I muttered with a nod. 

“I swear I attract this sort of thing…” she sighed as she entered her apartment without another glance in their direction. 

A small whine of embarrassment escaped Marco’s throat, and he stood with his face in his hands. It took some time to assure him that Miss Langnar had lived next door to us long enough to see more than her fair share of drunken romantic exchanges between a certain terrible two-some, so ours was probably nothing to her. I didn’t mention that she’d also seen much more of myself and Eren than she should have thanks to a dare gone wrong last year. Eventually, I’d calmed him down enough to give him back his ability to walk, and sent him on his way towards the lift. 

Two hours later, I was heating up a Pot Noodle when I heard the front door open. The footsteps that moved through the hallway were hilariously tentative, so I turned to watch and wait for them to enter. 

Sure enough, Connie’s uncertain head appeared around the door. Sasha’s hovered over him a moment later. 

“Are you going to run us out again?” she muttered coldly.

“Nope.”

“So you’ve finished tapping that Bodt?”

“Yep.”

“Is that a Pot Noodle I smell?”

“Fuck off, Sasha.”

They both seemed to breathe sighs of relief and came in; Connie toppled onto the sofa while Sasha started digging around the cupboards. The microwave beeped, and Sasha didn’t even try to steal the food from me as I took it out and went to sit down with it. In fact, the two seemed rather quiet – I was expecting some sort of harassment or at least a few more jokes headed my way. Instead, they just told me about what happened at the pizzeria they’d grabbed an early dinner at. No Marco comments. Nothing.

And then my phone rang. 

Putting my Pot Noodle on the table, I grabbed my phone off the arm of the chair and checked the caller ID: Hanji, nothing strange there.

“Hello?” 

“Jeeeeaaaaan.”

I frowned at her voice. Why did she sound… frustrated?

“Hanji….?”

“You can’t fuck the co-actor!”

 _There_ it was. 

I snapped my head round, only to find the two bastard sneaking out of the room… _with my Pot Noodle._

“Jean, please tell me they were kidding!” Hanji continued to moan down the phone. 

This was the last thing I needed right now. “It… depends on what they said…”

“They came back to the offices, saying how they’d just been kicked out of your flat because you were in the middle of having sex with a certain co-star named Marco Bodt.”

“… Then they weren’t kidding.”

“Jeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.”

The complaints and crap coming out of her mouth about how terrible an idea it was, and how stupid I was, felt like rapid machine gun fire straight to my gut. Before I knew it, I was chewing on my bottom lip to try and keep my cool. It wasn’t even that I was embarrassed or annoyed that she disapproved – I could sort of understand where her worries might come from. What pissed me off was that she was implying the feelings between Marco and I were half-assed. 

In one last cry, Hanji shouted, “How could you do this to me?”

And that’s when I snapped. 

“Hey! Who the fuck said you had a say in my relationships?” Shit. I needed to calm down. I was screaming at my agent down the phone. “I don’t give a shit about how you fit into all this, or anyone else for that matter! I’m not playing around, and I’m pretty fucking sure Marco isn’t either. So why don’t you lay the fuck off and trust that I can be professional, even when I'm playing opposite the guy I’m in love with!”

My skin was hot with anger, yet at the same time I’m pretty sure the trembling in my hands was from fear of just what I’d just done. God, Hanji was going to kill me in my sleep. Actually, no, killing me in my sleep would be too kind from her. She was going to kill me whilst I was awake. Painfully and terribly. 

“Yeesh, calm down Jean.”

Huh?

Hanji’s voice was totally relaxed, though she gave a small tut before continuing. “I’m just annoyed that thanks to you and the Bodt boy getting it on, I owe Levi fifty big ones.”

“Fifty… what?”

“He’s been saying for ages that the two of you were going to end up sucking each other’s dicks at the very least, and now you’re turning around and claiming you love him? Yeah, I've really lost the bet.”

“You’re angry… because of the bet?”

“Yes! I mean, I thought I could read you better than anyone! Congrats on your new relationship and all but, agh, dammit, I’m so annoyed!”

I hung up.

***

“W-what are you doing here?”

I frowned, and moved across the warehouse to sit on top of an old crate. The place was filthy, stunk of the sewers that had overflowed just outside; no way in hell was it a place for a person to be shacking up. Yet here he was.

Eren wasn’t in his character’s usual uniform, but instead a black outfit suited more to a lowly thief or murderer. I was still in the uniform Jake Banner had worn pretty much throughout most of the movie so far – though he clearly had made no effort to change or wash it after the deserted town where he found Chris’ body. 

“Looking for you, obviously,” I muttered. A large army backpack was resting against my side, and I was pulling absentmindedly at some loose threads on it. “Didn’t expect to find you in a shit hole like this.”

“Get out of here, Jake,” Eren ordered. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Jake–”

“What?” I snapped, my eyes lifting to stare daggers across towards him. “Is that an order from my team leader? Because I’m pretty fucking sure you gave up any right to boss me about when you fucked off and left.”

Eren shut the warehouse door with a heavy slam and stormed across to the pile of rags he’d supposedly been using to sleep on. His few possessions were on the floor by it, and he crouched to start poking at some of them. “Because what I need to do is my business, not yours.”

“You’re out leader. You were the one calling the shots. And you abandoned us.”

“No, Vincent abandoned us,” Eren snarled. “I’m simply… retrieving him.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?”

“The fuck do you know?”

“That you’ve gone on at least three rampages since you vanished. That innocent people got caught up in it. That you’re losing sight of your humanity to get back at Vincent.”

“He killed everyone!” His hand flew outwards, knocking away the small collection of trinkets he’d been looking at. They scattered across the floor like pieces of shattered glass. Eren clutched at his shaking hand to try and control it. “He killed Sally… He killed the person I cared about more than anyone. He needs to pay.”

I let out a sigh, and slid off the crate to wander over to him. I stood there, towering over him, trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible. Time passed, and Eren appeared to regain his composure, and took a deep breath. His eyes lifted and he peered around the rest of the warehouse. 

“So what? You sent Christopher home and came out here to drag me back there too?”

“Chris is dead.”

I don’t know which of us was acting better in that moment; me, with every speck of emotion or life wiped from my face and voice, or Eren, with how his expression slowly and beautifully crumbled. (Actually, if even I was giving props to Eren’s acting, he’d probably won). 

Turning, he stared up at me. “Chris is…?”

“Dead. Back in Trost. I wasn’t there. Whose blood do you think is this?” I motioned to my stained uniform.

“I… Jake, I’m–”

My hand moved, and the gun barrel against Eren’s forehead stopped him from continuing. Something about the fear in Eren’s eyes told me he’d actually been shocked at how fast I’d moved (thank god for Annie and her teachings). 

I cocked my head to the side, my face still nothing but a void of feelings. “So, Nicholas, should I kill you?”

“Wha… Jake?”

“The person I cared about more than anyone is dead. He was killed and I wasn’t even there to see it. Do you remember why I wasn’t there? Why we’d been split up? Go ahead, Nick, tell me why.”

Eren gulped. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the crew cover their mouth to hide a gasp. 

“…Because I’d ordered you to.” His voice was shaking. 

“Yep. You were so desperate to catch the guy behind this all, you ordered us to split up. Even though we _told_ you it was too dangerous like that,” I pushed the gun harder against his skin. “If we hadn’t split up, I could have protected him. I would have at least been there with him. I wouldn’t have gotten there too late, only to find his bloodied, mangled body lying all alone. Arguably, you’re the one who got him killed.”

I watched as Eren’s bottom lip trembled, tears started to prick his eyes; it was all so realistic I actually had a hard time reminding myself to continue. 

I kept my voice steady, cold, empty. “You killed the person I cared about more than _anything_. So, do you think I’m going to shoot you?”

His whole body shook violently as the water started dripping down his face. He didn’t move his head away from the gun; in fact, he pushed further against it, as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

I dropped to my knees in front of him, pulling the gun back. His eyes flickered open just in time to watch me drop the gun to the floor. That’s when my own tears came on. I clutched at his shoulders, shaking him.

“No. I’m not. Because that’s not what we do. It’s what traitors like Vincent do, not us,” I let pain ooze out of every word I spoke now. As if everything I’d been holding back since the start of the scene was being released, drenching my words. “Revenge isn’t the answer, Nick. Turning yourself into this mess, isn’t the answer. You have to stop. Please. Please stop.”

The two of us let go; each of us breaking down into sobs and leaning into the other for support. Eren muttered “I’m sorry” over and over, and I replied with “It’s not your fault” every time. It felt like an age before we heard blessed shout from Pixis. 

“CUT!” We immediately released each other, our sobs turning into laughter as we looked at each other and wiped our soaking faces. “Good work lads!”

“Fucking hell, Kirschtein!” Eren said, swinging a fist at my arm. “It felt like you were trying to shove that gun right through my head!”

“What makes you think I wasn’t, Jaeger?”

“Fuck off, horseface.” Eren gave me one last shove, using the momentum to push himself to his feet at the same time. I was already to clamber up myself when an open hand offered itself out to me. 

“You guys were great,” Marco said. 

“Yeah well, we wouldn’t be mains if we weren’t,” I snorted taking his hand and letting him pull me to my feet. 

Marco wasn’t working today – pretty much all of his scenes were now over and done with, since we were filming the movie quite chronologically. But he’d come by today because of where we were going after I was done with work. It had taken two whole weeks, but, at last, we were heading off to sign the final contract for the new flat. 

Sasha and Connie had taken the news that I wasn’t moving with them quite well… very well, actually. Perhaps even a tad offensively well. They’d already bagged a neat little pad a little further towards the edge of the city – one street down from the largest collection of fast-food stores in the whole city. They were delighted. 

“Is that your last scene of the day?” Marco asked as we started back towards my dressing room. A few of the crew members patted me on the back and thanked me for my work as we passed. 

“Yeah. They’re focusing on Reiner’s scenes for the next few days, so I’m done until after the weekend.”

“Don’t count on it, my boy!” 

I groaned loudly as my terrible agent appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Hanji pulled at my cheek and sniggered. Behind her, I spotted Levi walking off, heading to speak to Eren, I suppose. When I learnt of Hanji and Levi's bet, I'd been ready to just switch agents or something - if only to make Hanji reflect on how royally pissed off she'd made me. But... she did buy me dinner as an apology (which I never should have agreed to, since it turned out Eren and Levi were also invited, and she spent the whole fucking night talking about the logistics of acting with a lover).

“There’s nothing on my schedule, Hanji,” I grumbled. “Aren’t you the one always saying ‘if it’s not on the schedule, it doesn’t exist’?”

“Yes! You are learning,” She petted my hair and winked. “Except… when last minute fabulous opportunities come in!”

“What?”

“You know the show Sunrise, right?”

Marco narrowed his eyes beside me, just as Hanji was stepping away and finally getting her damn hands off me. “You mean the morning news programme?”

“That’s the one!” She grinned proudly. “You’re going to be on it this Saturday, Jean!”

I blinked. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re going to a guest on Sunrise! Talking about the movie!”

“S-seriously?” There was a strange feeling in my stomach that I could only describe as ‘wobbly’. “They want me? Why not Eren?”

“There’re actually talking to Eren on a different day,” Hanji explained, pulling out a notebook from her pocket and flipping through the pages. “This Saturday, however, they want to interview you and Marco!”

“Wait, me too?” Marco squeaked beside me. 

“Oh, sorry Marco. Mina was going to tell you when she saw you tomorrow or something!” Hanji didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, she looked elated that she’d gotten to tell us both. 

“Wait,” I rubbed my eyes. “Why us? I mean, I know we’re mains, but if they’re already interviewing Eren separately than… _why_?”

Giving a shrug that made it very clear Hanji didn’t give a damn about their reasons – she was simply happy her client had been asked on the show – she ripped a new page from her notebook and started writing something on it. “I assume they want a piece of you two because your characters have gotten the most attention from the public so far. Anyway, here’s the information! I have to go talk to Pixis about things.”

The tiny piece of paper was shoved into my hand and Hanji was off without another word. I glanced down to see the date and time she’d be picking me up to head over. 

“What does she mean about public attention?” Marco asked quietly when we started walking again. 

“I have no clue… Maybe people just like the character profiles or posters?”

“…Yeah, maybe.”

Marco somehow didn’t sound convinced, and I didn’t really blame him. Still, it wasn’t anything to be fretting over – the important thing was that we were going to be on TV, talking about our film and our characters!

…Oh god… We were going to be on _live_ TV… talking about our film and characters… 

Maybe I should start a bet with someone - on how quickly I was going to make a huge dick out of myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case people weren't sure, Sunrise is supposed to be one of those morning breakfast programmes. I based it off 'Daybreak', but obviously that's just a UK thing, I suppose. I really hope they have them in other countries, else no one's going to know what I'm on about!
> 
> (And yes, Miss Langnar is supposed to be Ilse, from Ilse's Notebook)


	14. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's the day! Jean and Marco head to the studio to be the guest stars on Sunrise. It goes almost as awfully as Jean expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Carla and Hannes: I didn't want to Carla to be Eren's mum, so I couldn't call her 'Jaeger'... and Hannes doesn't have a surname that I can find... so I apologise for what I ended up with. 
> 
> Also, NTC is supposed to stand for National Telly Channel - because I have no imagination, and didn't want to just use ITV.
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com), and I hope you enjoy! ^^
> 
> For those who wanted an Ereri spin-off from this... I caved... [Scout My Heart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1591307/chapters/3382913) is now up and running!

Everything was totally cool. I was cool. My outfit was cool. The weather was cool. Marco was… hot, and therefore cool. Cool. Totally cool. 

Except it really wasn’t.

“Oh god I’m going to throw up,” I muttered into my hands. “What if I throw up? I’m going to throw up on national television.”

Marco was sitting in the back of the car with me, slowly rubbing my back just like he did last time I felt this sick. Though, last time I was ill because of a practical reason (you know, bucket loads of booze), this time it was purely down to how much I was shitting myself for this morning. 

Mina was driving us to the studio to film the morning news show Sunrise (Hanji had offered, but after I slipped a word of warning Mina’s way, she’d taken the job and forced Hanji into the passenger seat). I saw her glance at me in the rear-view mirror, giving me a reassuring smile that looked awfully like Marco’s. 

“We’ll be fine, Jean,” said freckled hunk told me. “Besides, with both of us there, there’s always someone to step in if one of us freezes up.”

I slowly lifted my head, peering over at him in horror. “I’m… going to freeze up too?”

As my panic was renewed for the seventh time, the car came to a stop somewhere. There was a lot of shuffling about from Mina and Hanji, and some door slams that I didn’t want to think about, and then my own door opened. 

“Come on, Jean, you’ll be brilliant!” Hanji assured me, reaching into the car to drag me out. My hands clung to Marco until Hanji’s hold on my collar was choking me. 

The Sunrise studio was actually only one small part of NTC’s main studio building. It towered over me as I stared up at it. Marco appeared by my side, briefly brushing his fingers against my hand and sending me a calming smile. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started walking; following Hanji and Mina into the building, whilst telling myself that everything would be totally fine. 

We were ushered through towards Sunrise’s backstage area, where some of the make-up artists working at NTC quickly put the usual foundation amount on Marco and me, just so the cameras wouldn’t make us look like ghosts. We were offered drinks and biscuits (I took a coffee, but refused to even try to eat anything), and then we met the director and presenters of the show. 

The director was some serious looking guy called Nile who made no real effort to welcome us – he just gave a half-hearted greeting and then proceeded to read off the schedule for the morning. Marco and I weren’t the only guests, but we were the main ones, so we’d be shoved on during the mid-point of the show, when most people were tuning in for the morning. Nile said we could just linger around in the backstage area and relax until we were called on – which I was endlessly grateful for, since it was still before 6am and there was no way I could do anything but sit for a while yet.

After he headed off to go talk to other people, the two presenters came in and introduced themselves. Carla Maria was pretty much the national treasure of television – all smiles and good graces, the warmest lady you’ll ever meet – and she greeted both us and the agents with hugs and kisses, thanking us profusely for coming on (as if we were the ones doing the favour). Her co-presenter, Hannes Rose, was the supposed to be the comic of the two of them, I suppose, but he was still pretty damn nice to me – even if the jokes he kept making were atrocious. 

Eventually, the two of them headed off to get ready for the start of the show, and Marco and I were left with the agents sitting twiddling our thumbs. 

“A whole hour, huh?” I muttered, resting my arms across the back of the sofa (which was totally not just an excuse to put my arm around Marco…). 

“Well, it gives us a good break to update you guys on everything,” Mina said, pulling a notebook out her bag. “Isn’t that right, Hanji?”

“I suppose so!” 

The two of them started discussing something, trying to get on the same page of whatever they wanted to talk to us, and so Marco slumped back in the sofa as he waited (and that was probably totally not an excuse to lean into my arm…).

In the background, the TV on the wall showed that Sunrise was starting – I briefly heard mine and Marco’s names as Carla and Hannes told the audience the rundown of today’s show. Finally, Hanji and Mina seemed to have come to an agreement and turned back to us – they only briefly hesitated when they saw mine and Marco’s not-so-subtle positioning. 

“So, filming of the show will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, as long as they don’t run into any problems,” Mina explained with a smile. “Advertising posters are mostly already up…”

Marco and I exchanged a knowing glance.

“… and then there’ll be some time whilst the film is put together. They expect that they’ll have a television advert ready and out in less than a week or so – since they’re already drafting it up now.”

“Oo, but then all the fun starts!” Hanji interrupted, jumping about in her seat. “We’re getting plenty of requests for various interviews, photo-shoots and meet-and-greets. The movie’s had quite a hype surrounding it even before the casting, and the popularity has soared on social media sites since the posters were released.”

“For now, they’re pretty set on a premiere in July, so once we know for sure we’ll have to start looking for designers for your suits–”

“Wait, designers?” I found myself asking. 

Mina and Hanji exchanged a grin. Hanji flicked her fringe aside smugly. “Jean-boy, you don’t quite realise just how popular this movie is right now. It’s going to be a star-studded premiere. Just because most of the main cast are newbies, doesn’t mean they’re not going to make a big deal about it.”

“Actually,” Mina added. “I’m pretty sure the fact you guys are new on the acting scene is another reason people are so excited. Everyone’s calling you two and Eren the next big stars.”

“Seriously?” Marco gasped beside me. 

“Seriously.”

After a few more updates (most of which didn’t really concern Marco or myself), Hanji and Mina got caught up in a discussion about premiere suits, and whether they should find one designer who could do both our suits – ‘pair them up as long as possible’ as Hanji put it. 

I felt Marco’s foot tap against mine lightly, so I turned to look at him. He was smiling, taking me in carefully with watchful eyes. 

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, his foot hitting mine again. 

I let my fingers touch his shoulder lightly. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” He let out a long breath and shuffled slightly closer to me, leaning further into the sofa, and therefore leaning further against my arm. We didn’t speak any more than that, just watched Sunrise on the TV in silence as our agents rambled on. 

Then, it was time. 

One of Nile’s assistants came in, beckoning Marco and I to follow him. Hanji and Mina gave us both pats on the backs and wished us luck, promising that they’d be watching and cheering us on. Marco had to put a hand on my back and steer me out, since my joints were slowly starting to freeze up. 

Someone touched up our make-up and checked out clothes, and then we were led to the edge of the stage. In the darkness, surrounded by camera equipment and studio crew, I felt Marco’s hand slip into mine. He squeezed, and I squeezed back; I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, but the more I reminded myself that I had this freckled idiot by my side, the more it seemed to subside. 

“After the break we’ll be talking to two of the main cast members from the much-anticipated upcoming movie ‘Humanity’s Last Hope’. Jean Kirschtein and Marco Bodt will be here in the studio, so don’t go away.”

Noise started up again as the show went into the break, and Marco’s hand vanished from mine – leaving my palm feeling cold. Nile was now standing on the Sunrise set, motioning us to come over. 

“Alright guys, just be yourselves and answer the questions,” he said, pushing us both down into the sofa across from Carla and Hannes. “It’s live, so try not to swear, yeah? Good.”  
He vanished immediately, going to talk to some cameraman about something, and Hannes reached over to clap my knee. 

“Try not to look so terrified, kid!” he laughed. I hated how comfortable he looked. 

Carla had been reorganising some papers in front of her, and looked up with a smile. “Just pretend the cameras aren’t there, and focus on us. That might make things easier.”

Pretty soon, Nile was counting down. 

“Jean?” Marco murmured to me as I started scratching at my jeans. I glanced up at him, only to see he was sitting as if he was at his own home, his eyes focused past Carla and Hannes and a calm expression on his face. “When this is over, we can go pick up the keys for the new flat.”

Wait, what? I stared at him; he told me we couldn’t get the keys until next weekend… so what was he talking about?

“It’s your reward,” Marco added, his lips twitching upwards when he glanced my way and saw me gawking at him. “So just focus on that, ok?”

_Hell fucking yeah I will._

Nile gave the order for the show to start, and a second later Carla was welcoming the viewers back. 

It had started. 

_Shit. Close your fucking mouth, Kirschtein._

“With us today are Jean Kischtein and Marco Bodt, who play two of the main characters in ‘Humanity’s Last Hope’. Welcome boys.”

Marco grinned. “Thanks for having us.”

_Shit, was I meant to answer too?_

“I have to say,” Hannes started. “We haven’t had guests as requested as you two for quite some time!”

_Well, I missed my chance._

“Definitely!” Carla agreed. “You two play Jake and Christopher in the film’s dream team of soldiers, don’t you? They’re quite a pair, aren’t they?”

Marco laughed. _Wait, what was funny? Was I meant to be laughing? Fuck._

“Yes, I suppose they are,” Marco said with a thoughtful hum. “They’re always glued to the hip, as well.”

Fuck. I was just sitting silently. What the hell was I meant to say, anyway?

“Actually, that’s a pretty good point,” Hannes said. “Your characters are always together in any updates we get on the movie. Your posters are shot together, you’re even on this show together! Are they really that close in the movie?”

“Ha!”

They looked at me. 

_Oh, shit, that was me who’d laughed, wasn’t it?_

But… no one seemed annoyed. Actually, Marco was giving me a look that I suppose meant he was hoping I’d continue. 

“Well…” I begun. “I don’t think I ever hear Jake’s name without Chris’, and visa versa.”

“Oh really? Even on set?” Carla asked, looking elated that I was speaking. 

_Yeah… I could do this. Just talk. That was all I had to do._

I felt my lips curve upwards slightly. “After I first got the character profiles, Eren and I compared Nick and Jake’s. If you read Nick’s, there’s loads of information on his family, his past, his hobbies and whatnot,” I chuckled at the memory. “Then you’ve got Jake’s profile, that literally only consisted of information on him and Chris.”

Marco laughed beside me. “Chris’ is just the same. I don’t think there was anything in there on his past, unless it included Jake.”

“So Jake and Chris have been together for some time, then?” Hannes asked. 

“They’ve known each other since they were around… eight, was it?” I glanced to Marco for confirmation. 

“I think so, yeah.”

Carla clapped her hands together. “That’s so sweet! And they’re still together, even in the army. So, they have a pretty close relationship. How do they act with the other members of the team?”

“Do they have a ‘you can’t enter the club’ attitude with the others?” Hannes added with a grin. 

“Hmm, they don’t exactly distance themselves, but it’s not like it’s easy to be as close as Jake and Chris already are,” Marco pointed his thumb in my direction. “Jake and Nicholas have something of a love-hate rivalry, I’d say.”

“Just like real life,” I muttered almost unconsciously. 

_Wait. No. I shouldn’t have said that._

“Oh? That’s right, you and Eren knew each other before the film, isn’t that right?” Hannes prodded. “You have a rivalry as actors, as well? He’s actually coming on the show in a few days.”

“Good luck with thaaaaaa–” I trailed off, deciding that I really needed to shut the fuck up. Now was so not the time to start making digs at Jaeger. 

Carla seemed to pick up on my reluctance and moved on, to my relief. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted Marco holding in a laugh – probably at my expense. 

“So, I’m sure you two are aware of just how much hype is now surrounding your characters,” Carla said, picking up a piece of paper from in front of her. 

Marco and I glanced at one another, and both turned back with the exact same confused expression. 

“Not really,” he answered for both of us. 

“Our characters in particular?” I asked, just to be sure. Hanji had raved about how excited people were for the film, I couldn’t think of a reason why people would be focused on Jake and Chris – especially not when Christa Lenz was playing the love interest.

“Do you two go on social websites?” Hannes asked, his mouth hanging open dramatically. 

Marco chuckled. “We’re not really into searching about ourselves, I guess.”

“Well then, I guess we get the privilege of telling you, and probing you for your initial reactions!” 

“If you’ll just look over there,” Carla motioned to a monitor off the set. A picture came up on it, one that I recognised very well. “That’s your main poster for the movie, isn’t it?”

Sure enough, it was the poster of me and Marco – the same one that was plastered on the bus stop. But… I didn’t quite see what was so exciting about it.

“I don’t suppose you lads know what ‘shipping’ means, do you?”

I frowned, trying to work out just what they were trying to say…

“Well, it seems the public are adamant that there’s more than one romance plot going to appear in the movie…”

More than one? 

Wait.

What?

No. 

_Noooooooo._

Marco’s eyes were wide beside me. He’d just gotten there too, it seemed. 

The public… were excited about Jake and Chris… because they thought… they were _a couple_?

“WHAT THE F–”

A hand miraculously clamped over my mouth just before I’d completed the swear word. It seemed Marco’s arm had reacted by itself though, since he was still staring at Carla and Hannes in complete disbelief. 

The two presenters were pretty much pissing themselves at our reactions. It felt like hours before Marco’s hand fell from my mouth and the two of us turned at each other in shock. 

I could see it in his eyes. The exact same thing I was thinking. 

‘Looks like the public are sort of on the right track’.

As we stared at one another, the laughter started to slip out. Marco had to cover his mouth to try and control the snorts that were breaking forth. I just leant back and let my mouth fall open, cackling at the irony of this damn situation. 

“So?” Hannes asked. “What do you think of it?”

I recovered before Marco, who was now battling tears. I shrugged helplessly. “Well, I suppose they’ll have to watch the film and see if they’re right.”

“Will they at least get fan service?” Hannes wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. Carla was hitting his arm to try and get him off the topic, but she was still giggling. 

Marco at last came to his senses and answered. “I’m sure Jean and I can always give them extra if they don’t get their fill.”

Then he winked. 

_He fucking winked._

Straight into the camera.

Secret seductive monster Marco Bodt was back. On live television. 

“So are you two close outside of work?” Carla asked, recovering quicker than Hannes from the surprise of the wink. 

Marco glanced at me. “I’d like to think so.” 

“I’d hope so,” I frowned at the mocking in his voice. “Otherwise life’s going to be damn awkward in the flat.”

“You two are _living together_?” 

Well fuck. 

My heart leapt in my chest. I felt my cheeks heating up. “I-I didn’t mean… um… I…”

Everyone was laughing again. 

You know, I’m pretty fucking sure I came on this show to talk about the movie, not my relationship with Marco Bodt. 

“We both happened to be looking for a new place at the same time,” Marco explained – thankfully he didn’t add any other fucking innuendos. 

“I imagine the two actors living together must be quite a lavish lifestyle!” 

Marco snorted. “If you call ordering pizza to sustain us at 4am when we’re still in the middle of a Halo tournament, ‘lavish’.”

“Or having a Friends marathon,” I quickly added.

“Why Friends?”

“If you live with me, you better learn to love Friends.”

“Anything for you, sweetie.”

By the time our time on Sunrise was up, Carla and Hannes had thankfully returned to the topic of the actual film, and Marco managed to stop flirting with me long enough for us to answer them professionally. 

As the next break arrived, everyone thanked us, and I got out of there as fast as my numb legs would let me. Hanji and Mina were waiting backstage with faces that were clearly holding back their sniggers. I didn’t acknowledge them, just walked straight out and threw myself into the car. Marco slid into the backseat beside me. 

“I fucked that up so bad…” I groaned loudly into my hands. 

“No you didn’t, it was fine!” 

“We might as well have just fucking made out right there on camera.”

“Jean, you’re overthinking it!” Marco slid closer, taking my hands and pulling them away from my face. He smiled softly at me. “It was obvious everyone wanted us to act up to the whole ‘shipping’ thing.”

“Which we shouldn’t have done,” I complained.

“What’s the harm?” he laughed, leaning forward and bumping his forehead against mine. “No one’s going to take it seriously, anyway.”

“Mm…”

“So, shall I go get those two and get them to take us back to yours?” Marco snaked his arms around my waist. “Then we can go pick up a certain set of keys…”

As much as I didn’t want it to, I knew my face had immediately lit up. “We can really get them now?”

“Yep. I wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“So… we can start moving our things in?”

Marco’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. “We can start living there, if we want.”

“Fuck yes.”

So I grabbed that sneaky bastard’s face and kissed the hell out of him.


	15. A New Dynamic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy stuff happens, but Jean ruins it because he's an arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I was VERY tempted to just call this chapter 'Jean's a dick', you have no idea)
> 
> Thanks so much for all the support on this fic guys! It seriously means a lot ~~that you enjoy my smut so here's a tad more~~
> 
> Also, can I just say how brilliant it is that there isn't a single word in this fic that outright says Sasha and Connie are dating, but people seem to just know that they are - I got a few asks about a Spingles spin-off and I found it sort of really funny and great. 
> 
> But yes, again! [My tumblr](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com) and please enjoy! ^^

“Jean! Which cupboard did you put the pans in?”

“Second on the right beside the oven.”

“Well they’re not there!”

“Then you’re blind!”

“I must be if I’m dating you!”

I rolled my eyes and turned round to glower across the flat at Marco, who was grinning lovingly at me from behind the island that edged the kitchen area. Move-in day had easily turned into move-in weekend, and (consequently) transformed into “Let’s get as many people as possible to help the lovebirds move their shit into a house, and then proceed to seriously distract them and cry all over Jean’s favourite shirt when he kicks us out” – which was pretty much word for word what Sasha had said when she called in Armin and Mikasa to help with the move. Eren only helped out Saturday afternoon, since he was ‘preparing’ for his own upcoming interview on Sunrise with Levi. 

Yeah, I’m pretty sure that meant they were going at it like bunnies before Eren’s work load built up again.

Still, as much as the guys were eating into my alone time with Marco, they had helped out a lot getting our stuff over to the new place. Marco and I had done most unpacking ourselves, since we quickly learned that Armin was easily distracted by Marco’s books, Mikasa wasn’t even seen once she discover the building’s rooftop terrace was a great place to practice backflips, and Connie and Sasha were much more interested in the game of ‘hide all Jean’s underwear’. Still, now Monday was here and we’d finally managed to be alone long enough to put the flat in order. 

I was busy sitting at the dining table that sat between the kitchen and the living area; my laptop open as I took full advantage of our newly functioning internet (it was a damn good thing moving in had distracted me these past two days, the lack of internet would have killed me). Marco had offered to cook, though nothing special since we hadn’t exactly gone food shopping yet. 

He clattered about, putting something on the hob – bolognese or soup, either way it was from our stash of frozen meals Old Man Tom had left us in the freezer. Seriously, bless that weird old man. 

So, whilst he was distracted by the food, I gave up scrolling through the utter crap on my Facebook news feed and opened a new Google page. There was something I’d been wanting to check up on ever since we appeared on Sunrise, and now was my chance. 

I did a quick search for ‘Humanity’s Last Hope’ but all that came up was a bunch of news about the movie and how excited everyone was it (I mean, that’s great and all, but not what I was hoping to find).

“You’re not one of those people who gets annoyed when they have pasta with bolognese instead of spaghetti, are you?” Marco called as I changed the search to ‘Humanity’s Last Hope Jake and Christopher’.

I glanced up at him, though his back was to me as he was rummaging through various cupboards. “There are people like that?”

“There was one at my old place. She once hid all the pasta in the house because she saw a guy was planning to make bolognese, but wasn’t going to use spaghetti.”

“But spaghetti’s so messy to eat!”

“Exactly.”

I was checking every search result, and had so far only come across character introductions for Jake and Christopher, and one forum post by someone who swore they saw the actors for them at a bus stop (whoops). Then, the forth result opened onto something slightly more interesting…

It was a post on some random person’s blog: at the top of the post was the very familiar poster image – mine and Marco’s, to be exact. However, it was what they’d written below that that was the interesting part. 

_“So I’ve been super excited for HLH from the moment I heard Pixis was directing, and I was even happier that the cast members they cast seemed perfect for the parts. Then they dared to release THIS poster of Jake and Chris. They have a JOINT promo poster! And just look at them!! Tell me I’m not the only one who is totally shipping them now?”_

Now that was what I was looking for. Still, one post about ‘shipping’ Marco and my characters didn’t seem like much of a hype that Hannes and Carla were implying it was. I scrolled down some more, however, and saw that this particular post and quite a few likes and reblogs on it… and there were tags. 

And one tag read ‘JakeChris’. 

So I clicked it.

And immediately regretted it. 

There were posts and posts and posts about Jake and Chris as a couple. So many posts. You had the analysing posts – the ones who ripped apart the posters or images released from the film and somehow found sexual tension in them. Those were pretty cool; hell, they actually started to make _me_ believe all those sexual hints were there! There were plenty of just simple posts talking about how much people hoped there were scenes between us, and a hell of a lot about our appearance on Sunrise.

Marco’s wink had gone viral. 

As had my blush. 

Fuck my life.

But, I’ll be honest: none of those posts really bothered me. Or at least, they didn’t compared to the fanart. 

Yes. You heard me. 

_Fanart._

A lot of fanart. 

Like, there was some amazing drawings; redraws of the posters, some original art of us fighting or in some cool explosion thing. 

But then there were others. 

Rather… racy drawings? I don’t really know how to put it. 

But hey… they were all pretty good. 

I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about looking at pictures someone stranger had drawn of me and Marco making out or having sex; I was sort of conflicted. On one hand I think I was pretty fucking freaked out that these people were imagining me naked… On the other hand I was flattered they drew me so hot.

And Marco was even hotter. 

I was totally absorbed, scrolling through these images completely unable to stop. I liked how they’d all remembered to draw Marco’s freckles – it was like they were obsessed with them – but I really liked that I _knew_ there were some inaccuracies in the freckle placements on his lower half. Now I sort of knew why this website was addictive to people; I could have browsed that tag all day…

“You’re wearing your aroused face. Why are you wearing your aroused face?”

I nearly fell out my seat when I looked up and found Marco standing on the other side of the table, holding two bowls and staring at me in concern. How long had I been fucking looking at these pictures? And most importantly, _why did I have a hard on?_

My hand shot out to close my laptop screen, but somehow Marco had placed both bowls on the table and was smacking my hand back before I managed to. Instead, he frowned and walked around the table. I squirmed, crossing my legs to try and hide the tent I was pitching. 

“Please tell me you’re not looking at porn whilst your boyfriend is in the kitchen making your dinner,” Marco grumbled, placing a rather firm hand on my shoulder and leaning by my ear to glower at me disapprovingly.

“N-not exactly…” I muttered. 

Oh god, I could feel the shame bubbling in my chest. The picture that was enlarged right now just _had_ to be one of me riding Marco in suspen– JAKE RIDING CHRIS. Shit, I needed to stop imaging these pictures as Jean and Marco fanart instead of what it actually was…

Marco had been watching me shuffling uncomfortably, but sighed and turned his attention fully to the screen. “Can’t you control your libido, Jean? We’re about to – HOLY SHIT IS THAT ME?”

My mouth opened but no sounds came out. Marco’s hand tightened on my shoulder and his face turned pale as he slowly turned it to me – jaw pretty much on the floor. 

I glanced down, refusing to meet his eyes as my mouth continued to impersonate a fish. “I… no. No that is not you.”

“Then who is it?”

“… Christopher Sole?”

“OH MY GOD!”

Marco straightened up, covering his mouth with his hand as his cheeks turned a brilliant red. I twisted in my seat, laughing to try and calm him down a little – it just end coming out as some ugly awkward breathy noise. 

“This is what the Sunrise guys meant by the shipping thing,” I pointed out. 

“I didn’t know that included drawing porn of me!”

“Hey, I’m in that porn too!”

Marco’s arms fell to his side and every hint of emotion vanished from his face. A shiver shot down my spine in the silence. Oh god, he just really needed to speak to put me out of my misery. 

“Jean… Why do you have an erection?”

Oh god, he just really needed to not talk. 

The following ten minutes consisted of me desperately sprinting around the apartment via some rather impressive parkour skills that I didn’t even know I had, as Marco chased after me claiming that he would gladly put me in a pair of suspenders if I was that desperate. It ended with my frantically trying to crawl out from under Marco as he’d tackled me to his bedroom floor. He knelt over me, digging his fingers into my sides until I was crying with laughter, and begging him to stop. When he at last listened to my pitiful pleas, he wasted no time in collapsing on me and wrapping his arms under me, nuzzling his face into my shoulders. Twisting as much as I could to try and face him, I smiled. Then, I realised my eyes were doing the thing. 

You know that thing? Where you’re smiling so genuinely, so tenderly, the corners of your eyes crease up? It’s the sort of thing I notice a lot; in my parents when I do something stupid (but still totally adorable), in my old schoolmates on their wedding day, in Mikasa when Eren’s trying really hard to do something nice for someone, in Connie when Sasha falls asleep in the most ridiculously ugly positions. It’s that look that just says ‘I _really_ love that you’re you and that you’re with me.’

Yeah… totally doing the thing.

I didn’t even care that my body was contorted in the world’s most uncomfortable position, I grabbed Marco’s neck and pulled him towards me. He blinked but didn’t try to avoid the kiss. I felt him sigh out his nose as he sank against my lips, and he ran his tongue along my dry bottom lip before taking full advantage of the now growing make-out session. When we pulled back from each other, I realised just how painful this position was for me, and just how uncomfortable a certain issue in my pants was. 

Marco noticed both these things and quickly sat up off me, helping me to sit up to, before he glanced down at my crotch. Whilst I was still rearranging myself (and internally groaning at the pain in my shoulder), I suddenly realised Marco’s hands were running up my thighs.

“Looks like you need that dealt with,” he muttered with a smirk.

I gulped back the pathetic whimper I was about to make as his hands continued to move up and down. Instead I opted for the ‘cool, suave Jean’ smile and leant forward to try and catch Marco’s lips again. “Yes please…”

He was gone. 

I blinked. 

I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but Marco was suddenly stood up and leaving the room. 

Was I supposed to follow him or…?

He glanced over his shoulder with the most criminal smirk I’ve ever seen. “Well, better go get your computer and use the pictures of ‘us’ to deal with it, huh?”

“M-Marco!” Oh I whimpered that time.

“Hey, you got into this mess because of them! Get out of it with them. Or, well, get off with them, I guess.”

“Marco!” I cried as he vanished out of the room, heading off to finish his dinner he claimed, leaving me sitting alone on his bedroom floor like some utter reject 

It was when I realised that I still had a pretty good view of Marco through the open door when he sat down at the table and started make his way through his (probably cold) pasta. My lip twisted upwards as I realised he hadn’t won yet. Not completely, at least. 

Scrambling up, I hopped onto Marco’s bed and sat against the headboard (whilst silently thanking god Marco’s room had a double bed, even if mine didn’t, it meant I could spread out). I didn’t make any effort to be quiet, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard a nonchalant “Out of my room, Jean!” call from Marco. 

Yeah, fuck that.

Making myself comfortable, I popped open my trousers and pushed them down just enough to get my hand inside. It’d been like this for way too long, and the moment my hand made the first long, slow stroke up my dick, my body tensed in excitement. I ran my tongue along my lip, biting it as my hand started moving more. 

Each second that passed, my felt my breathing grow heavier – this wasn’t like the times I’d masturbated in my room back with Connie and Sasha (or even worse at my parents’ house), so I was certainly not making any effort to stay quiet. In fact, I was taking every chance to be as loud as possible. Sure enough, Marco hadn’t called out in protest now I was gasping and moaning through the shots of pleasure running through me. 

I pressed the tip with my thumb, letting the pre-cum help make this little session all the more satisfying as my hand ran up and down. If there’s one thing you have to say about pleasing yourself, it’s that when you wanted to feel it faster, or tighter, your hand obliged before your head even realised you’d wanted it. Still, I would have much preferred it if it had been Marco’s hand in place of my own. In fact… since this was his room I may just have to pretend it was…

My eyes squeezed shut, and a heavy heartbeat later I could see Marco sitting in front of me from behind my eyelids. I could see his hand moving just like mine was; slow and hard, then fast and fleeting. I saw the dark look in his eyes that told me he was going to send me out of my mind, and the way he didn’t even blink as he stared straight into my eyes. 

A sharp, wonderful shudder ran through my hips and I moaned loudly. “Ah… M… Marco!” I gasped as my hips started to buck slightly. 

I pressed my head against the wall, not even noticing that it started to hurt. As another wave of ecstasy drowned me, I cried out. “God… Marco, more!” 

_Smash._

That did it. 

There was another loud noise as a chair toppled over outside the bedroom, and a split second later Marco was storming into the bedroom. I opened my eyes just in time to meet those dark ones I’d just been picturing, and licked lips as I gave my twitching dick yet another stroke. 

“You bastard…” he muttered as he striped his top off and pounced onto the bed. 

I couldn’t hold back a laugh as he grabbed my ankles and tugged me down, flat on my back, and tore my hand out of my pants, pining both my wrists up by my head and leaning down to crush his lips against mine. 

Turns out I didn’t need a laptop or pictures to get off after all. 

I felt fully satisfied as I lay on Marco’s bare chest, smirking proudly down at him as he clearly regretted giving in. He’d sworn at me more than enough through our little impromptu hand job party, so now he was just pouting at the ceiling and refusing to talk to me. 

“What? You saying you didn’t enjoy it?” I sang, wriggling my bare hips against Marco’s (our trousers were somewhere across the room, and underwear had been either dirtied in the action or in the clean-up). 

Marco turned his head to the side, as if that was going to escape me, so I just chuckled and nibbled at his exposed neck. He tried very hard not to react, but I soon felt a hand stroking through my hair. 

“You’re cleaning up the bowl I smashed.”

“I will definitely clean up the bowl you smashed,” I chuckled. 

We lay there for a while longer, and I was nearly reaching the dozing stage on top of Marco, when an angry vibrating suddenly came from somewhere across the room – something told me that if I followed it, I’d also find Marco’s pants, since that was definitely his phone. 

“You get it,” Marco grumbled. 

“It’s your phone.”

“You’re lying on top or me, and dragged me away from my dinner to fool around.”

“I didn’t do any dragging, you jumped me,” I teased, but got up anyway and started searching the floor for the mobile. I finally found it (in Marco’s jeans pockets, as expected) and quickly pressed the ‘answer’ button since it was Eren’s name on the caller ID. 

“Marco’s phone, his bodty-prize speaking.”

“Jean!”

I waved Marco’s complaint away and revealed in the groan that sounded from Eren on the other side of the line. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” Jaeger snarled. 

“My hands were busy.”

“Not is not the time for you to be making sex jokes at me, Kischtein!” 

I shifted uncomfortably where I stood. I didn’t like it when Eren sounded serious, I was much more comfortable when Jaeger was firing offences and obscene gestures his way. The worry only grew when I heard a voice in the background (that was distinctly Levi’s) say “Don’t fuck around, and just tell them.”

“I am!” Eren snapped back. 

Wow. If Jaeger was talking back to Levi, something was seriously wrong. I looked up and met Marco’s gaze – who was now sitting up in bed, his head cocked to the side in question. I just shrugged. 

“Ok… have you seen this morning’s new _Spice_ magazine?” 

“Oh yeah, I have a subscription to them. Come on Jaeger, do you really think I read _Spice_?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear as I quickly pulled on a pair of (Marco’s) boxers. 

“Right… good… ok,” I _really_ didn’t like how worried Eren sounded. “Well, don’t freak out. And if you don’t believe me you can check the… er… pretty much any of the gossip column websites.”

“Spit it out, Eren!”

“There may be a feature about you.”

That was it? I shook my head in disbelief. “So? Does it tell everyone about how devilishly handsome I am? Or how I should totally be the main character because of how great Jake is?”

I could almost _hear_ Eren starting to seethe. And sure enough, he snapped. 

“Nah. It just has you and Marco making out in a car plastered over the front cover.”

The phone fell.

Oh.

Oh shit.


	16. Calling Marco Bodt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean deals with the first onset of aftermath from a certain photographed incident, and no one seems to be acting as he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a whooper. And it wasn't even half of what I initially planned to include... a certain phone call ended up lasting a lot longer than I expected.  
> But yeah, I hope you guys are enjoying it! I'm like, endlessly grateful for all you lot reading this, seriously. 
> 
> [My tumblr](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com) is here as always, and I do track the tag 'fic: playing off him' because posts seem to be cropping up in there more and more that don't belong to me >.

Jaeger just _had_ to wait until the fucking evening to alert me of our little situation. Why couldn’t he have told me earlier? Like as soon as the latest issue of Spice was released this morning? Then, I could have at least taken some time to prepare for the damage control. But no. Jaeger chose now – eight in the fucking evening to tell me. (And I don’t give a fuck if he claimed to have “only been told by Levi just now!” I was still pissed). That meant the magazine was pretty damn widely distributed and the news had entered pretty much every sad celeb news site all over the internet, and even some of the actual newspaper sites. Hell, as I looked over Marco’s shoulder as he scrolled through the google search results, I couldn’t understand how it hadn’t appeared when I was searching for ‘JakeChris’. 

Now, it felt like everywhere we clicked, we were faced with that damn photo of us. The Sunrise studio parking lot, backseat of Mina’s car; there I was, straddling Marco, arms tight around his neck in the middle of a full on make out session. You could fucking see the smiles in our faces, the redness in our cheeks, the pressure at which Marco’s fingers were pressing into my waist. It wasn’t even a picture we could pass off as badly timed or misrepresenting the scene. 

Our relationship was out there for all the public to see. 

And in wonderful high definition too. 

I could vaguely hear my phone ringing in my coat pocket by the front door – it had been going off for a hell of a long time now, as had Marco’s, but neither of us were particularly feeling up to answering calls right now. 

Rubbing his forehead, Marco slumped back in the chair. Apparently he’d now given up after reading the seventh article that rambled on about the ‘secret romance’ between us by people who probably didn’t even know we existed until a few days ago. His eyes lifted, gazing off at the wall as if it held some deep magical answer to this problem. Yeah, it’d be nice if the wall could sort it out… I found myself staring at it too, and was almost oblivious to the hand that slipped inside my own. I don’t know if Marco was offering or seeking comfort, but I guess it didn’t really matter. 

“Jean…?”

“Mm?”

“Is your phone playing the funeral march?”

Ah yes. Perfect timing. 

Groaning, I spilled my hand free from Marco’s and dragged my sorry ass over to collect my phone. I could ignore my Fall Out Boy ringtone for as long as I liked, but as soon as that personalised ringtone started playing, I knew better than to ignore it. 

I stared down at the caller ID for a moment longer, cringing in advance for what was about to happen, and pressed the answer button with one last prayer falling from my lips. 

“Ah! You’re actually alive! Harold! Your son is alive! Simply ignoring our calls, apparently.”

“Hello Ma…”

“Your father and I wish to talk to you about something, Jean.” My stomach turned more than usual upon hearing her voice. She had that ‘you’re in trouble, but not as much as you think, because I’m about to try and be an accepting mother whilst still slightly judging you’ tone on. And yes, no matter what you may think, that was a decisive tone, and I had heard it quite a few times in my sad, sad life. 

“Hello Jean!” my father’s voice came, slightly more chirpy than Mum’s, as she put me on speaker. I doubted Dad would have much to add to the conversation – he never did seem all there; he just bounded along happily in his own little world, I’m sure.

“Now, Jean, today we had a visit from Mrs Winters. You know? The lady across the street with the pretty twin daughters. Oh, what were their names again? Harold? What were their names?”

Here we go…

“Whose names?”

“The pretty twin girls! Mrs Winter’s girls from across the street. You know the ones.”

“Oh, yes those two! Weren’t they the ones who pushed Jean over on a school trip that one time, and nicknamed him–”

I brought the phone away from my ear as I walked back over towards where Marco was sitting (he’d moved to the sofa), and I slumped down next to him. There was no way I was going to listen to my parents ramble – they’d be on this one topic for at least another few minutes, so I took the time to press myself against Marco’s side and start to draw shapes on his thigh. 

“You ok?” he whispered, nodding to the phone in my lap. 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Steeling myself, I lifted the phone back to my ear – with exceptional timing, may I add, as my parents had only just finished their conversation. 

“–was such a good girl, but Jessie was much prettier, wouldn’t you agree, Jean?”

“Ma, I don’t really have an opinion on Mrs Winter’s children,” I sighed. Jessie and Clara (yes, I did remember their names, but my mother didn’t know that) were of none of my concern, especially right now, seeing as I was sitting next to my _boy_ friend… who was looking me with a rather bemused expression now. 

“Oh! Yes… of course...” Oho, was that a tint of nerves in my mother’s tone? I do believe it was. I was only further amused by her panicked whisper to my father that followed. “Dammit Harold, how could you let me ramble on like that considering the subject!”

“Sorry dear.”

Oh… _they knew._

Of course they fucking knew Jean, there’s a picture of you getting it on with your co-star all over the internet. Well, that’s a fun way to come out to your parents, I suppose? Certainly a story to tell, at least.

“So, Jean, Mrs Winters pops over all in a fuss because we haven’t told her the news about you. Which, of course, was rather befuddling, seeing as the only news about you worthy of reaching that gossip-mouth is that you got the part in that show of yours–”

“Movie,” I dully corrected. 

“Do not interrupt me, young man!” Marco snorted beside me, and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from making any more unnecessary noise. I suppose he could hear then. I shot him a glare, which made him jump to his feet and mime something. 

I was too busy watching him walk away (oh, that hand signal had meant wash the dishes. I thought it had meant something… less appropriate. He should’ve really held his hands a little higher) to listen 100% to my mother’s continued ramblings. She spent way too much time explaining the events leading up to her news for me to actually pay attention to it all. My father chimed in with the odd “Mhm” and “Most certainly” when prompted, but Marco’s back was of much more interest to me as he stood at the kitchen sink. 

Were his shoulders usually that hunched…?

“…kissing another young man?”

Oh, hold up. That sounded important.

I tore my eyes away from Marco, forcing myself to remember that this wasn’t just something I could brush over with my folks. I had to give them an explanation – they weren’t the public, they couldn’t be ignored, and they shouldn’t be. I mean, these were the two people who’d put up with me for twenty-one years. They deserved to get updates on how I was fucking up my life, and – I glanced back over at Marco, smiling perhaps a little too tenderly considering the problems at hand – who was making it bearable. 

“Jean. I would appreciate it if you gave us an answer, please,” Mum sighed. 

Allowing myself this chance to sink into the sofa, I shrugged – despite knowing my parents couldn’t see me. “What exactly is it you want answered, Ma? You know me well enough to know that that picture circulating isn’t a fake or a misunderstanding.”

“How would we know?” she exclaimed. “We’ve never seen you kissing someone.”

“I wasn’t aware you could attract someone,” Dad said, which led to him cracking into giggles and my mother spending the next few moments shouting at him to “calm down” and “this isn’t the best time”. 

Urgh, these two. 

“Jean. We wish to know if you are dating the young man in the picture,” Mum said when she’d finally regained control over Dad. 

“Yes, I am.” 

Silence followed. Which probably should have unnerved me a little, but I was too busy clambering off the sofa and heading over to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, I watched Marco wash up with a smile (he glanced round and frowned questioningly, but continued anyway). 

“Yes, I’m dating him,” I repeated after hearing no reply still. Marco froze. “His name’s Marco, I’ve just moved in with him, and I’m dating him.”

There was a long exhale of breath from my mother, and when she next spoke I swear on all Marco’s freckles, I heard a smile in her voice. “Ok. Do we count this as you saying you’re gay?”

“Gay?”

“Yes, dear. Do you like men, not women?”

“Ma, I know what ‘gay’ means.”

“Then answer instead of questioning the question!”

I sighed. I would have rolled my eyes at Marco, but he hadn’t turned around, despite having stopped all washing up. “No, I still like girls. It just happens that Marco is the one I like most.”

“Oh! Told you!”

I was a little shocked to hear my father shout so proudly, but that quickly turned to confusion when my mother gave an irritated tut. 

“Dammit. I could have really done without your father rubbing this in my face, Jean,” Mum grumbled. “But very – Harold let me finish! – very well, Jean. I hope you plan to introduce me to this boy soon. And please don’t leave me to discover about your secret marriage in a gossip magazine next time.”

I was too stunned to respond to her farewell, and a moment later the phone was in my father’s sole possession. 

“I told you mother you still had a liking for girls in you,” Dad boasted proudly. “Now, I’ve done some research for you, Jean…”

And that was how I spent the worst half hour of my life listening to my father explain bisexuality and pansexuality, before analysing which of these categories I fit into. I did not need to know any of the information he gave me. And I certainly did not need to know his thoughts and opinions on getting ‘the best of both worlds’. In fact, I just needed him to stop talking so I could go bleach my brain from the whole lecture. 

When I at last hung up, I was sitting on the floor with my back pressed against my bedroom wall (I hadn’t wanted to just stand around where Marco might hear my father, he didn’t need to have to deal with the horror of it too). My phone was flung haphazardly across the floor. I wasn’t picking it up again. No matter who called, or who texted, I would not pick it up. God himself could ring me, and he’d just have to try again another day.

Speaking of God, at that moment a certain freckled angel poked his head round my door.

Marco did a double take when he spotted me on the floor, and shot me a sympathetic smile when I waved him inside. 

“How were your parents?” he asked, sliding down to sit beside me, knees tucked up to his chest. 

I scowled. “Way too excited about the whole thing, and not in the least concerned that their son was all over the news kissing another guy.”

Marco looked… somewhat surprised? He quickly dropped his eyes to the floor and smiled again – though this one looked notably forced. Maybe I was just seeing things. He was probably just a little stressed about everything. 

“That’s good.”

“Where’s your phone?” I asked, dropping my head to his shoulder. “I really hope you have to suffer through an embarrassing parent phone call about the whole thing too. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

“Hm…” He started weaving his fingers between each other, almost absentmindedly. “Don’t get your hopes up, I doubt it will happen.”

I wanted to ask why he thought that. I wanted to ask why he sounded so upset. I wanted to ask what was going through his mind to make his brows knit together so tightly, because it surely couldn’t be the photo thing. I didn’t ask any of those things though. Instead I just turned my head to kiss his shoulder, and then took his hands in my own, rubbing circles into the palms in the hopes of soothing him in some way. His eyebrows only got tighter.

“Jean…?” Now even his voice sounded like it was crumbling, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand what had caused it all of a sudden. My grip on his hands tightened. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure. Anything.” 

He turned to me but flinched when he met my gaze. He just sat still for a moment, his hands limp inside my hold, his body curling further and further into itself, as if he was trying to hide away. Then he smiled again. A painfully fake smile. 

“Hug me?” he asked. 

My heart sunk. 

“Always,” I said, pulling him closer. Marco immediately folded into my arms, shuffling only slightly to move into a comfier position. I cradled him as he buried his face in my chest, and rested my chin on his head. He crumpled, bent, shrunk until he fit snuggly inside my hold; as if he just wanted to hide there forever. 

That wasn’t what Marco had wanted to ask for. I knew that. I could see it in his eyes: the very moment he was about to spill what was on his mind, and the very moment he pulled it back in and let out the usual strong, kind Marco he showed people. Whatever was wrong wasn’t going to be fixed by this hug; with every second that passed I felt my arms desperately struggling to hold Marco together. He was crumbling, falling apart inside, and all I could do was wait for the cracks to show. My mind whirled, searching for what had set him off; the photograph was worrying, yeah, but that alone couldn’t freak him out this much. Besides, he’d been fine up until just a moment ago. Or maybe he’d just been acting up until a moment ago… I really had no clue. 

Shit… I was useless. 

_Bang-bang._

Marco and I jumped at the exact same time as the pounding reached our ears. I felt him start to pull away, but I kept him pressed to my chest and listened for anymore. 

_Bang-bang-bang._

The door?

“Wait here,” I muttered into Marco’s ear as I unwrapped my arms from around him and pushed myself up. He complied at least, leaning to look round the doorframe as I left the bedroom and headed towards the flat door. 

It was, what, nine? Who the hell made house calls at this time? I couldn’t imagine it being any of my friends – all of them (yes, even Connie and Sasha) knew when and when not to make unannounced visits in this sort of situation, especially if I wasn’t replying to any messages. No one else had our address yet, so…

I peered through the spyhole and my breath caught. 

_BANG-BANG-BANG._

I jumped into action as the knocking became more violent, and quickly unbolted the door and pulled it open. I really hoped I kept my expression neutral, but I’m pretty sure I looked like some sheepish kid who’d knocked over an expensive vase.

“Mr Kirschtein…” Erwin Smith nodded as slowly as he spoke. I couldn’t tell if it was in warning or greeting. 

The person who stood beside him was slightly easier to read, purely because she leapt forward and threw her arms around my neck, squeezing me until I could barely breathe. 

“Jean! I’m sorry! I should have been checking the magazines because of the interview on Sunrise! I should have picked this up as soon as it appeared!” Hanji screeched, not paying any attention to my choking. 

“Do you mind if we come in, Jean?” Erwin asked. 

Seeing as I couldn’t exactly reply, I stepped aside (dragging Hanji with me) and motioned for him to enter. As he walked passed, Erwin grabbed Hanji by the collar and hauled her off me – much to my relief – which gave me a chance to shut the door. When I turned back round, Marco was standing unsurely in the doorway to my bedroom, giving a rather confused smile to the newcomers (mainly Erwin, seeing as he already knew Hanji). 

Erwin paused and gave Marco a long, thoughtful look. It didn’t last long, as he strode across the apartment to hold his hand out to Marco with a somewhat pleasant smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Mr Bodt. I’m Erwin Smith, CEO of the Recon Corps Agency.”

“Ah, nice to meet you.” Marco quickly recovered from his confusion and shook Erwin’s hand – appearing a lot calmer than he had a minute ago in my arms. I really needed to appreciate Marco’s acting talent a little more…

“I trust you can imagine why we’re here,” Erwin said, turning back to me. “I’m sorry for dropping by so late, but you weren’t answering our calls.”

“We weren’t really answering anyone’s calls,” Marco quickly butted in. He spoke a little firmer than I normally heard him, like he was trying to defend me or something. Erwin seemed to pick up on that too. 

“We figured it best to check up on you,” Hanji explained, moving herself to the sofa. Erwin only followed suit after looking at me expectantly and getting a nod. Not a second later, Marco was standing beside me. Hanji looked between us. “You know… when I see you two together like this, you look like such a cute–”

“So we’re clear,” Erwin said, refusing to give Hanji a chance to finish. “We’re not here to approve or disapprove of whatever is going on between you – that is, of course, not our place. However, we do need to address the issue now that it has… come out unexpectedly.”

I really hoped Erwin’s use of ‘come out’ there was coincidental.

Beside me, Marco stiffened. He was frowning…

“I wasn’t aware it needed to be addressed,” he said, more than a little coldly. I think Hanji was just as taken aback by the 180 shift in lovely, sweet Marco as I was. Erwin sat as unaffected – though I’m pretty sure his expression wouldn’t have changed if a bird appeared out of nowhere and shat on him. I was sort of wishing that would happening actually, as long as it broke Marco’s icy stare as he continued speaking. “The article is out there, as is the picture. Is it really necessary to make any more of a fuss out of it?”

What the hell was going on with him?

Erwin seemed to be actually contemplating the point. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his chin on his folded hands. “May I just ask one thing?”

“Sure.” I answered before Marco got a chance. Judging from the twitch of his mouth I saw out the corner of my eye, he would have snapped at Erwin. 

“Are the two of you serious? Or is this just being caught up in the moment?”

Marco cringed at the words.

I didn’t spend time trying to watch him on the edge of my vision. I didn’t try to work out what was going on with him or what he was thinking. I just stared straight at Erwin, a tad offended he’d even asked something like that. He held my gaze, completely unreadable. And actually, I think my expression was just as blank as his. No, maybe not blank: more like disgruntled. 

He was sitting here, in _our_ home, questioning whether Marco and I were messing around. He was asking if we were so young and stupid and hyped up over the movie and the job that we simply got over excited. I couldn’t tell if he was asking a legitimate question, or if he was trying to rile me up on purpose. I sure as hell wasn’t going to stand here and listen as he made me out to be some idiot who only acted off spur of the moments feelings. I’d started falling for Marco the moment the freckled dork sat opposite me in that coffee shop and started chatting about our upcoming movie together. I did not crumple and fall apart like some baby after seeing Marco’s all-too-realistic death scene because of some spontaneous crush. 

I hadn’t even realised I’d reached out for Marco’s hand until he was squeezing mine reassuringly. 

Erwin clapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “That’s decided then.”

It was?

“I’ll have to talk to Pixis about any effects this might have on the movie, but I doubt there’ll be any,” Erwin said, his face suddenly much softer than it had been a moment ago. “He’s not the type to care even if there was. Hanji?”

“Yes sir!” Hanji jumped to her feet, a playful salute against her forehead as Erwin started to walk straight past Marco and I back towards the door. 

“You’re to spread the word to Levi, so Eren knows in case this crops up in his interview on Sunrise: we’re not releasing any statements concerning the photograph. We shan’t deny it – there’s no point in that anyway – but we also won’t be expanding or giving out any information concerning it. The public aren’t stupid, as much as we may like to think; they’re all well aware of the relationship that picture represents, but we shall make sure they are aware that it is none of their business.”

Marco and I twisted round, watching as Erwin opened the front door and beckoned Hanji to follow him – she was already typing away on her phone. She was much too distracted to give us anything but a “Speak to you later!” in farewell. 

Erwin, on the other hand, hovered by the door. He smiled. “Sorry for the intrusion, but you’ve lifting a load from my mind. Goodnight.”

And like that they were gone.

We stood blinking at the door as if trying to regain our senses after one fucked up whirlwind of a dream, hands still entwined. 

“Sorry…” I eventually said. “Our CEOs known to be a bit… strict? But that was…” A waved my hand – there weren’t any words for whatever the hell that just was. 

“He was testing us,” Marco muttered. He was frowning again.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve heard similar things before.”

The moment he began to tug away, my hold on him tightened. Yeah, like fuck was I letting him walk away when his face looked like it did. He looked hurt, confused and angry all at the same time, and I may not have had the slightest clue why, but there was no way I was leaving his side unless I thought that’s what he needed. And unfortunately for Marco, I didn’t think that was what he needed. 

“Bed?” I offered. “Get our heads straightened out tomorrow morning?”

Marco’s lips curled upwards. “I thought the thing that started this was not _straight_ ening our heads out?”

“Oh for…!” I punched his arm softly, taking the chance to start pushing him towards the bedrooms. “I’m not dealing with you making straight/gay jokes.”

I managed to keep the atmosphere as light-hearted as possible whilst we got changed, and it was only after we’d both crawled into the crappy single bed in my room (Marco had asked to sleep there instead tonight, for some reason), that the façade started to drop. 

Our limbs were tangled together, bodies passing heat between them as we crushed ourselves into that one small bed. Marco’s grip on me was ridiculously tight, but it was sort of comforting to feel him wrapped around me like that. We didn’t talk, just lay there, listening to one another’s breathing or heartbeats, waiting for the other to doze off first. Marco dropped first, my hand twisting and stroking though his hair, lulling him to sleep. Something had set him off, that was for certain; but no matter how long I lay there, racking my brains in the dark, I couldn’t imagine what had initially caused it. It hadn’t been the photograph; that had shocked him, worried him, but mainly he’d just been embarrassed. It had been something else after that, and I hated having to just wait around for him to tell me.

I pressed my lips against his head, and my last thought before I fell asleep was that I hoped he’d be better by morning.


	17. Join the Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work reveals some interesting trivia about the actors on Humanity's Last Hope, and Jean continues to be torn between worrying about Marco and respecting his privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my ships are showing...
> 
> I should write more of these five hanging out, they've got a nice little club going on. 
> 
> As always, you guys can find me on [tumblr here!](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com) I've recently been doing [one-shot fic requests](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com/tagged/fiib) as a sort of follower thank you, so if you're interested you can request something ^^  
> Anyways, hope you guys like this chapter! Thanks so much for all the support

He wasn’t better in the morning. 

If anything, he was worse. 

Marco was already awake, showered and dressed when our alarm went off at seven. Actually, I was also up before then, but only because the fire alarm start screeching loudly at six when Marco managed to burn eggs. No, I don’t know how he did it; I just stumbled glassy-eyed into the kitchen as he was desperately trying to wave smoke out the window and the smouldering blackened pan was in the sink under the tap. From what my hazy mind understood, he’d not been paying enough attention – I didn’t have a chance to ask him why before he ran out of the flat to go apologise to anyone who’d been shaken awake by the alarm. 

By the time he returned, I’d dressed and placed (non-burnt) toast and eggs on the table for both of us. Marco didn’t initiate conversation through breakfast – I don’t even think he did it on purpose, he was just off in his own world. 

And I didn’t fucking like this world of his, seeing as it made him look so damn unhappy.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked a while later when it was time to head off to work. He’d been scrubbing at the burnt pan for at least half an hour by now. 

“Huh?” Marco peered back at me, narrowing his eyes in confusion before looking at the clock. Apparently he hadn’t even been aware of the time passing. “Oh damn… Yeah, I’ll just be a minute.”

He had least managed to get himself together enough to be ready to leave in five short minutes, and then it was just a trek down the stairs and along the road to a nearby public car park where all our building were allowed to keep their cars for a small deposit. He was silent for the car ride – staring out the window blankly and not even complaining when I put on the one radio station he didn’t like (I’d been hoping for some sort of reaction). By the time I pulled up in the studio car park, I was _really_ worried. 

As Marco reached for the door handle, I pressed the automatic lock button on my keys. He blinked and turned to me in confusion when he pulled the handle and nothing happened. 

“Marco,” I started. “You know you can talk to me about anything that’s bothering you right?”

He flinched and dropped his gaze, like he hadn’t realised I had noticed, and now was feeling guilty or some shit. 

“I may not be able to help, but I can try. Hell, I can at least help you get it off your chest, right?”

He let out a long, slow breath, twiddling his fingers in thought for a moment. I wasn’t even worried about the fact we needed to head into work soon, or the fact that out the corner of my eye I’d seen Christa and her bodyguard pull up beside us; I wasn’t leaving this car until I knew that Marco at least knew I was here and I was worried about him. 

It felt like an age we were sat there in silence. The sun beating down and turning the car into a sauna – at least that way I could pretend I was sweating from just heat, and not nerves. Marco was usually the happy one who kept me from freaking out… I didn’t like seeing him like this, especially when I had no clue what had gotten him so worked up. The photo was weighing on both our minds, so if it was just that surely he would have been fine talking to me about it – you know, since I was literally going through the exact same thing. No… it couldn’t have been that. That didn’t explain why he acted so strange when Erwin called. 

“I’m sorry.”

I snapped out of my thoughts and found Marco looking my way with a small smile. 

“It’s just something I need to work out on my own right now. It’s not that I don’t think you could help… I just need to think something over, and then I’ll talk to you about it,” I didn’t want to give myself too much credit, but I was pretty certain his expression did actually look a little lighter. He twisted a little and leant over the handbrake to catch my lips. I was caught off guard, but quickly took advantage of the kiss, brushing my hand over the back of his neck. He pulled away all too soon though, and smiled softly at me. “Thank you, Jean.”

In an attempt to hide my embarrassment, I frowned. “As long as you’re not thinking about breaking up with me.”

He laughed. “No, that’s the last thing I’m thinking about. Promise me you won’t worry over me for now though, ok?”

“I’m not promising anything like that,” I scoffed, clicking the car open again. “Just talk to me when you can, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With one last lingering look between us, we slipped out the car and slammed the doors shut. I gave Marco’s shoulder a playful push as he fell into step beside me, and he shouldered me softly back on the way inside the main studio building. It was only when we’d weaved down the corridors to the room we were supposed to be meeting in this morning, and stepped through the doors into it, that I realised I’d been worrying so much about Marco that I’d forgotten to worry about coming back to work.

You know, now Marco and my relationship was plastered over the tabloids. 

The whole room looked at us.

As in, every member of cast and crew turned and fell silent upon the two of us walking in together. It was like being smacked in the face by all those eyes… 

I was pretty much ready to turn and run out of there as fast as I could – hell, even Marco was subtly shifting a little closer to me – but our saviour arrived in the form of the magnificent, beautiful Dot Pixis (and no, I would not ever be calling him ‘beautiful’ again for as long as I live). 

Clapping his hands together, he stepped through the doors and pushed past Marco and I into the room, calling everyone together and dishing out orders to those who had most recently arrived. Some of the other cast had scenes to shoot today, but Marco and I only had one short flashback scene to do later this afternoon – we were only in this morning to rehearse and basically choreograph it; I could have cried in joy when Pixis told the two of us to head off with Petra and go find an empty room to practice in. 

So basically, there wasn’t much of a problem in terms of work… Petra treated us exactly the same – so much so that half way through the rehearsal I was actually wondering if she even knew about it. Though, a little later when Pixis came in to see what we’d done so far, she proved that she did know by blushing a little when I tripped over my lace during the practice and Marco immediately ran over to check I was ok. I blame the fact he was cradling my face in his hands for that though. Neither she nor Pixis said anything about it though. 

Lunch was more of an issue. We hadn’t had time to make lunches this morning (mainly because of the breakfast incident), so Marco and I headed to the cafeteria for lunch like the majority of workers. It happened again; as soon as we walked in there was this brief silence as people looked our way. You know that really shitty feeling you get, when you walk in a room and you’re sure people in it were just talking about you? Yeah, that’s what was going on. Marco shrunk into himself, quickly moving over to the serving table to order. Me? I wasn’t going to shy away from it. I shot those staring at me with the coldest glare imaginable, daring them to whisper about Marco again. I didn’t give a fuck if they talked about me, but if they don’t have the balls to say it to my face, then they shouldn’t be saying it at all. Cowards. 

A palm smacked my head – it was way too fucking painful to have been Marco’s work, so I wasn’t surprised to turn around and see Jaeger scowling at me. 

“You give people enough nightmares with your face, Kirschtein, so stop glaring at them,” he said – grabbing my shoulder and steering me towards the serving table. 

Marco had apparently already ordered my lunch too, and turned just in time for Eren to shove me towards his unsuspecting arms. 

“Your boyfriend is being a terror to society again,” Eren said, quickly pointing out what he wanted to the server. “Keep a better eye on him.”

Smirking, Marco squeezed my arm affectionately before I could say something back to the world class idiot. “I’ll make sure of it,” he promised Eren with a laugh. 

“I’m meeting Reiner and Christa in the dressing room for lunch, if you guys want to join?” Eren asked as he picked up his stuff. “Christa is sticking in there since she’s worried she’ll mess up her costume.”

We weren’t really given a choice in the matter, since Eren immediately started stalking out of the cafeteria – assuming we were following. Then again, lunch in the secluded dressing rooms sounded better than sitting out here with all these eyes (even if that meant joining Jaeger). 

All the dressing rooms (for the main cast, at least) were in one corridor in the far corner of the studio. They weren’t only ours – I’m sure they were used for other people when we weren’t filming here – but whenever we were, our names were stuck to the door and the rooms were pretty much out of bounds unless you were the main cast, the directors, or the costume department. I hadn’t been in Christa’s before, but I figured it would just be like mine or Marco’s. 

I was so wrong. 

So very wrong.

“Oh good, you guys came!” Christa said with a smile as we walked in. I wasn’t really up for greetings – I was too busy staring around the _pristine_ room she had. It was definitely larger than the others (it had its own fucking seating area), and the whole place was filled with flowers and decorations that just screamed ‘A-list actress here’. Marco seemed just as stunned as me, but recovered much quicker and took a seat on the sofa opposite Reiner and Christa. Eren was pulling up a chair for himself – giving me the space beside Marco, it seemed. Marco passed me the sandwich and water he’d gotten me. 

“Are you guys done for the day?” Marco asked – despite the fact that both Christa and Reiner were in full costume getup. Reiner even had ‘blood’ dripping down his face. They must be shooting Christa’s death scene. 

“Almost, I think,” Reiner shrugged – more interested in his own food than the conversation. 

“I’ve got another scene to shoot with Eren after the one with Reiner,” Christa said. “You guys have a scene together today, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Another flashback to an unbelievably gay moment.”

Yep. I really said that. 

I said that and then proceeded to not realise the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. 

I said that and then continued eating my sandwich.

Well… until Marco’s drink rolled and hit my foot. 

I glanced down at the bottle in confusion, and picked it up. Only then seeing the way Marco was staring at me in a ‘the fuck are you saying’ sort of way. One that was mirrored on everyone else’s face when I looked around. 

Only then did it hit me. 

“Oh… I…” I gulped. “Pretend I didn’t say that, yeah?”

“No…” Reiner said slowly, putting his food down and folding his arms across his chest. He looked between Marco and me curiously. “That gives me a good chance to ask about it. It is true right? You guys going out?”

Eren snorted. “I thought that was obvious from how they were banging on location. You should know, it kept you awake all night too.”

“Eren!” Christa scolded harshly. 

“Yeah, I knew they were banging, but I didn’t realise they were like… dating.”

Beside me I could feel Marco starting to crinkle up again. I didn’t get it; he was always open about being gay, so what the hell was his problem right now? These guys were our friends, he should know they wouldn’t judge him. He was staring at his hands, twiddling his fingers yet again as the conversation around us continued. 

“You know…” Christa said, leaning forward with that angel like smile. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. You guys aren’t the only one in this room in a same sex relationship.”

So she picked up on Marco’s mood too–

Wait, what?

I saw Eren snap his head up round to her at the same time as I did – though there was much more fear in his expression. I could have pissed myself it was that funny; I don’t know how Christa found out about him getting it on with Levi, but it was totally worth the panic on Eren’s face right now. 

Reiner turned to her too. “Oh, I didn’t realise you knew.”

…Eh?

Christa looked back at him in surprise. “Knew what?”

“About me and Bertholdt. You’re not really around when I see him, so I didn’t know you knew about us.”

“I… didn’t…” Christa said slowly, eyes wide in surprise. 

“What?”

“I didn’t know about you… dating a guy.” 

I frowned, trying to place where I’d heard that name before. “Bertholdt? Isn’t he the crew member who kicked a big hole in the set wall?”

Reiner laughed. “Yeah, that’s him. But who cares? I’ve ran through one of those walls before – they’re fucking easy to break.”

“They’re really not…” I muttered. 

“Hang on,” Reiner’s smile fell suddenly, turning to Christa again. “If you didn’t know about me, who were you talking about?”

A bright blush crossed Christa’s pale cheeks, and she started twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I was talking about… myself…”

“You’re gay?” Marco clamped his hand over my mouth before I got a chance to shout anything else. 

Thankfully, Christa just laughed at my outburst. “I don’t know if I’d say ‘gay’, but I’m dating a girl, yes.”

“Who?” Marco clamped his other hand over his own mouth, embarrassed the question had slipped. I smirked.

“You guys remember Ymir, right?”

“Her?” Reiner gasped – Marco looked disappointed he didn’t have another free hand. Reiner just smiled and nodded. “Wow… girl’s got game, I’ll give her that.”

“Should I thank you for that?” Christa giggled.

The hand from my mouth dropped, lacing into my hand instead. When I glanced over at Marco, he looked almost relieved at what we were hearing. I shuffled along the sofa closer to him – not that the others noticed. 

“So,” Reiner said. “Four out of five of the main cast of this film are gay, huh?”

My lips tugged upwards and I made a show of turning my head pointedly to Eren. “Aw, Eren, you’re almost left out! If _only_ you were dating a guy too, then you could join the club.”

“Jean,” Marco warned. 

Eren had been pretty fucking quiet throughout this, and now he was glowering at me for drawing attention to him. He looked pissed, yeah, but I’d seen his face often enough to know he wasn’t like _really_ angry or upset or anything – more just irritated and embarrassed. 

Ew… I hung out with Jaeger way too much if I could read him that well. 

With all the eyes on him, Eren just sighed in defeat. His gaze dropped, and there was definitely reddening cheeks going on. 

“I’m dating… a guy…”

No one reacted. 

No one spoke. 

We just sort of all stared at each other in silence…

…well, until Reiner burst into laughter. 

“Jesus Christ!” he cried, clutching his stomach and doubling over. The laugh was so ridiculously loud and hearty that there was a domino effect. Christa bit her lip, but was eventually giggling away. Marco buried his head into my shoulder, shoulders shaking as he chortled away. And I just threw my head back at let it roar. Eventually, even Eren was chuckling; though his head was in his hands by that point. 

“Are there _any_ straight actors in this film?”

“Bloody hell…” Eren sighed, rubbing his eyes as he lifted his head back up. “The public flipped over Jean and Marco dating, imagine if they found this out?”

“If we all came out, the limelight would be off us completely,” I pointed out. “They’d all be freaking over losing their chance with Christa.”

“Or, in the girl’s case, celebrating that they have more of a chance,” Reiner added with a wink at the small blonde. 

She tried to hold back a smile but failed. “I told you, I’m not gay. Gender isn’t really a big issue with me.”

“Oh, so _everyone_ has a chance?”

“No! Just Ymir!”

“Aw, romantic. Eren who has a chance with you?”

“Anyone who can get past my boyfriend has a chance with me.”

“Bet I could get past him.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

I was smiling lazily at the conversation. My thumb ran up and down Marco’s hand and his head still hadn’t moved from my shoulder. I could feel his breath against me, his other hand sneaking around behind me to tug at the edge of my jumper. 

“Anyone else got a chance with you?” he whispered. The other three would have struggled to hear it even if they’d been trying to listen. 

I hummed, turning my head to brush my lips against his hair. “Well, I can’t say I’d refuse Scarlett Johansson if she asked…”

“Ask her to set me up with Chris Evans.”

I frowned. “Yeah, I don’t like this joke anymore.”

“Then say only I have a chance with you.”

“You don’t need a chance.”

Not too long after the make-up artists knocked on the door and asked if they could make a start on mine and Marco’s make-up for this afternoon. Eren decided to head out too – unable to take Reiner’s ‘gay club’ jokes anymore. I was already at the door when I glanced back and realised Marco was hovering uncertainly. When he spotted me waiting, he waved me forward, making as if to follow me out. 

I left but found myself slowing just as I moved out of sight of the door. I watched over my shoulder as Marco’s make-up artist was apparently told to go ahead, and Marco still hadn’t come out yet. Holding my finger up to halt my own artist, I paused.

“Um…” Yep, his voice was definitely tense. “Do you mind if I ask if you two are _out_ out?”

“Well, not publicly,” Christa said. “But to those who matter or know me well enough, yes.”

“I don’t make any particular effort to hide it,” Reiner added.

“Then… do you mind if I ask your advice on something?”

That was when I moved on. I wasn’t going to eavesdrop on Marco when he sounded like that – when he’d clearly told me to go ahead. And I had to respect his privacy about stuff, right?

Even if I was a little narked he could talk to those two about his problems, and not me.


	18. Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> urgh, writing this chapter was actually painful for reasons... 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this update! Thanks so much for keeping up with this silly thing for so long!!
> 
> [My tumblr!](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com)

I never realised how good of an actor you had to be to fake warmth, until I was standing in the middle of a field at night, hugging a huge coat around me. 

After an afternoon of filming one little flashback scene, Marco and I were unlucky enough to have the schedule changed on us – short notice too. They only made the last minute decision about ten minutes before we were due to finish for the day. So, instead of finishing before dinner, we were asked to wait around until it got dark so we could film another flashback scene that took place at night. It was one we were supposed to be doing tomorrow night, but the crew had just heard of a storm cloud that might hit then; so they figured it would be the safest bet to film it now whilst the sky was clear and the grass dry. 

Of course, clear nights can be fucking murder when you’re out in a thin t-shirt and there’s a nasty breeze going. 

I will be forever grateful to Petra for finding me one of the thickest coats they had available. I’d also forever hate Marco for being lucky enough to have a jacket as part of his costume. Then again, he was constantly asking if I was warm enough when he first noticed I was starting to shiver – so maybe I would let him off. 

“Alright you two, ready to roll?” Pixis called over as we were having our make-up checked. Marco waved a hand to agree, and the make-up artists copied. 

I’m not totally sure how they were going to fiddle about with special effects – but the premise of this scene was one of Jake’s memories from just before he and Christopher headed out on their mission: one huge firework display in the middle of some fields that they attended together. This was by far one of the more ‘shippy’ ones, if I were to use words from the fans. Despite the fact that the memory took place in the middle of a public display, with hundreds of people spectating, the only ones in the scene were Marco and me – Jake’s version of the memory didn’t include anyone else. 

There weren’t any fireworks actually going off tonight though – I doubt the sound guys would appreciate trying to focus in on what Marco and I were saying with explosions going off in the background. There were some huge-ass lights that the technicians were bringing in to mirror the lighting effects though (and by ‘mirror’, I mean ‘horribly exaggerate’ because this memory of Jake’s was something straight out of a soppy romance novel). 

We were put into position, and I was mercilessly stripped of my coat, and before we knew it Pixis was calling ‘action’. 

We stared up at the sky as the all-too-fake fireworks started flashing in our faces. It was an easy scene – no words at all. We stood there for a while, before I figured we’d been ‘spectating’ long enough for me to start on what little action that was scripted. I turned my head to the side, looking over at Marco whose eyes were still locked on the sky – I could have laughed; he was really looking up as if he was captivated by some amazing firework show. For a moment, I actually forgot there were cameras around, zooming right in on my expression at that moment. I smiled at him, like the script said… but maybe it was a little too tender. 

All I could think at that moment was how much I wished the cameras weren’t there – just for a moment, a tiny second – just long enough that I could snatch his hand and give it a squeeze, because, Christ… that expression on his face…

…actually, just his face in general. It was perfect. 

He must have felt the feelings in my gaze shift, since Marco’s eyes glanced at me briefly before he turned his whole head. He took a moment to take me in, but a smile appeared in hardly any time at all. 

A flash of common sense flashed across my mind, and I managed to realise that no one had called cut yet – so the smiles mustn’t be too out of order. Still, hand holding probably would be a step too far for them (no matter how accepting they were of our relationship). 

… Damn, making out was probably a step too far too.

So, I did the only logical thing that would seem totally ‘no homo’ in this situation. 

I punched him. 

Like, not hard, don’t worry – I’m not into casually belting my boyfriend to hide how much I wanted to kiss him. I just gave him one of those playful arm punches, it was actually more of a shove than anything else. He immediately laughed, acting along like he’d been expecting me to do it the whole time. 

Shaking my head, I shoved my hands in my pockets (though, that was honestly just to stop myself from reaching out to him. Damn, playing opposite the guy you’re in love with is full of horrible temptations). 

“CUT!”

As much as I expected it to, the warm atmosphere between me and Marco didn’t shatter upon Pixis’ call. It just continued through – the most naturally happy feeling. Pixis gave us a thumbs up before going to check the clip, and Marco immediately stepped over to me, pushing his forehead into my shoulder. Someone ran over with my coat – which only made me more conscious of my goosebumps – but before they could give it to me, Marco took a hold of it and wrapped it around me before I could do it myself. Hell, I couldn’t even get my arms in, since he just hugged me close to him – sighing contently into my ear. His breath was warm. It was sort of nice. 

“What’s this for?” I asked, happily slumping into his hold. 

“Just felt like it…” he muttered. 

I was half-tempted to ask if this ‘feeling like it’ had anything to do with what had left him acting so odd today, but I figured it’d probably be best if I didn’t go there… at least until he was ready to talk about it. 

“All right, love birds,” Petra sighed – only blushing a little bit as she tapped us on the shoulders. “Though that wasn’t exactly what was scripted…” She shot a look my way. “Pixis figures it works better than expected, so we’re going to keep that. You’ve worked hard today, so we’re happy to let you guys head off now.”

“We don’t need to redo anything?” Marco asked, looking across at the crew – most of whom were actually starting to pack up. 

“Nope. We don’t want to spend too much time on it tonight anyway, seeing as we weren’t supposed to be filming it now. I promise we’re not just being lazy!” 

With more prompting from Petra, Marco and I headed back into the studio. We were only using a field behind it, so it wasn’t like we had far to walk. Plus, we were soon joined by a few of the crew members who were able to head back earlier than the others as well. It was sort of nice, being able to walk along chatting with crew, whilst not worrying about my hand being entwined with Marco’s. He was quiet, only laughing or agreeing when the conversation addressed him directly, but I’m pretty sure he was happy. 

“Meet you out here when we’re done?” I asked Marco once we’d reached the corridor with the dressing rooms. He nodded and headed into his own room to get changed, so I didn’t really think much of it. 

I probably should have realised he was thinking something over…

It was pretty easy to change out of this costume – seeing as it was just casual clothes – but my make-up proved more difficult to scrub off. I mean, seriously, I understand there was something about lighting and cameras and shit, but did they really have to cake me in this much foundation? It was worse than when I wore actual costume make-up in fight scenes. I was so busy swearing to myself over how orange the face wipes were getting, that I almost missed the tentative knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” I called out, a little late, once my mind processed the sound. 

The door opened, and in the mirror I realised it was Marco coming in so I didn’t bother turning round and continued with scrubbing three layers of my skin off. 

“Was I taking that long?” I laughed, hoping I hadn’t kept him waiting. 

He shut the door behind him and watched me a little – no particularly readable emotion on his face. I only paused when I realised he was holding his phone loosely in the hand that was hanging limply at his side. 

This time I turned round properly. “Something up?” 

“Not really.” He glanced at his phone. 

Yeah, right. 

And here I was thinking he was a least a little bit back to his usual self. 

I knew all too well that he wouldn’t talk to me if I brought it up myself, so I returned to the make-up removal – keeping my eyes on him in the mirror as he continued staring at his phone solemnly. Every second, his eyebrows were narrowing more and more; it was like watching a time bomb ticking closer and closer to zero – just waiting for it to explode, without knowing how much damage it was going to cause. 

_Beep-beep._

His eyes widened.

And he blew. 

I couldn’t even jump when his phone flew across the room and hit the wall – I was too stunned to. I mean, fuck, I didn’t even get a change to completely turn around or form words, seeing as Marco had somehow marched across the room and grabbed me by the waist like he was the fucking Flash. 

“Mar–!” I was cut off by his lips on mine. Not that I’m one to complain by sudden, hot ( _extremely_ hot…) make-out sessions; but I generally like to know what brought it on. Besides, something about the way his phone lay pretty badly fucked up on the floor told me this wasn’t exactly the healthiest way to release… whatever the hell he was trying to release. Frustration? Anger? I don’t know, but whatever it was felt damn good… no matter how wrong it probably was. 

So what if I may have allowed myself to indulge in the kiss perhaps a little longer than I should have? All that matter is that I eventually turned my hand away – though all that did was make him latch onto my neck. 

“Marco… what is this?” I gasped – trying to keep my cool at the teeth on my neck. 

“You’re my boyfriend,” was the only (insane) response. 

“Erm… yes? But… what?” 

He breathed in – his whole body shaking slightly as he did – and pulled away from my neck. He fists gripped my shirt as if his life depended on it, pushing his face against my cheek and moving even closer to me. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to hide how shaky his breath was now. My stomach turned at the thought that he was on the brink of crying. 

“You’re my boyfriend. I’m in love with you. You mean so much to me…” His voice cracked. “Why can’t… why can’t they see that?”

He seemed so small all of a sudden. Like a child cowering into me. I snaked my arms around him and held him close – letting him hide away in my arms until he felt composed enough to step out, or brave enough to tell me what was going on. I didn’t know who ‘they’ were, and I wasn’t completely sure what it was they’d done to Marco (though I suppose I could probably guess), but I already wanted to tear their throats out. 

And feed them to rabid squirrels. 

Who’d eat their eyes. 

And their dicks. 

If they had dicks.

If they didn’t then they’d eat their tits. 

Either way, the rabid squirrels would eat some sort of protruding, sensitive flesh – I didn’t really care what. 

I rubbed his back as he regained his composure. Though he seemed to have calmed down, he made no move to pull away – not that I minded in the slightest. 

Closing my eyes into the embrace, I sighed. “Is this the thing that’s been bothering you?”

He nodded. 

“Are you ready to talk to me about it yet?”

No movement. 

“It’s alright if you’re not. But can you at least tell me who to set the squirrels on?”

_That_ made him pull back. He stared at me. “Squirrels…?”

Oh yeah, I forgot Marco wasn’t tuned into my inner monologue. 

Deciding it wasn’t smart to unveil the extent of my weird thoughts, I just shook my head to drop the topic. He watched me a while longer – the cogs turning in his mind were almost visible through his eyes as they locked with mine. I waited; quietly hoping that he was deciding that it was about time to talk to me. 

Eventually, he sighed – his shoulders sinking in either sadness or relief (it was too hard to tell which). Giving a small smile he shook his head again. For a moment, I was worried he was telling me that he wasn’t talking yet. 

But I was wrong. 

“I’d rather you didn’t set these squirrels on my parents.”

Oh. 

I frowned. “Your parents?”

Now I thought about it, I don’t think Marco had ever talked about his parents with me. He’d not mentioned them even once. Oh, actually no, that’s not right – he _had_ mentioned them just one time. Just after the magazine was released and I said I hoped his parents called to give him the third degree like mine had. What had he said then? That I shouldn’t count on it, or something? My stomach turned at the thought of just how deep this issue might go. 

Marco, ever the observant bastard, must have seen my inner panic; he laced his fingers with mine and led me over to the two chairs in front of the make-up table. He swivelled them round so they were close, but opposite each other. 

“Mhm… my parents,” he said as he sat down in one. 

I slowly lowered myself into the other, happily letting our knees knock together and tangling our feet together. Then I waited. 

“My parents… aren’t bad people…” Marco clenched his hands together. “They’re just a little old fashioned… I guess it’s just the way they were brought up.”

He opened his mouth to continue but nothing came out. His face tightened in pain. Part of me wondered if I should tell him that he didn’t need to tell me if it was too painful, but the other part wanted to know. I wanted to know how to help – or at least how to comfort him. 

So I tried to prompt him. I doubted that they didn’t know about Marco’s sexuality; I mean, not only had it been plastered over the tabloids, but Marco pretty much came out to me after a few weeks of knowing each other. He never seemed to try and hide it, so I doubted he want his parents not to know – no matter how ‘old fashioned’ they were. So, I asked the next most obvious question.

“They don’t like that you’re gay?”

“… Probably.”

“Probably?”

Marco dropped his head into his hands. I think it was more of an action to hide his face from me, than anything else. 

“They don’t acknowledge it.”

I narrowed my eyebrows. As much as I wanted to understand, I just didn’t really get what he meant.

“So they tell you you’re not, or you’re confused?”

“Not that…”

“They refuse to accept it?”

“No.” He dropped his hands, but kept his head bent low. His hands reached out to search for mine – the way he took my hands made me feel like it was an absentminded reaction, not a purposeful one… Like he was unconsciously trying to find comfort. 

I watched his back move as he took a deep breath. Then he lifted his head – a hollow smile on his face. “They don’t acknowledge it. As in, they don’t react to it. The moment I bring it up, it’s like they can’t hear me anymore.”

I froze. 

“When I came out, they didn’t respond. They just carried on with what they were doing. They didn’t speak to me. They didn’t look at me. It was like I was suddenly invisible… and they only noticed me once more when I talked about something else.”

His hands tightened around mine.

“They talk to me normally. They still treat me like their son, as usual. It’s just… they seem to completely ignore this part of me. They’ve been calling and texting me like always these past few days – but not once have they mentioned the magazine, even though they must have seen it by now. And… just now…” His eyes flickered across the room to where his phone lay. His lip trembled. “I decided that I wanted to prove it to them. I wanted them to meet you, to meet the man I love… but…”

The smile he’d been trying so hard to hold began to shake. His eyes widened as he felt his own façade start to crumble, and then it all tumbled down along with the first tear. 

My heart fell too.

I squeezed his hands, pulling myself closer to him. “Maybe they just didn’t get the message? I’m sure they’re not purposefully ignor–”

“Mum rang me first.”

I flinched. 

Marco started curling up, like he was trying to hide away. The tears started falling freer. “She rang me just now, asking if I wanted to come to dinner this weekend… I asked if I could bring someone with me, and she immediately said yes. It was only when she asked who that I told her I wanted to bring my boyfriend…”

His whole torso bent – his face nearly touching our knees. I could feel the wet droplets falling on my trousers. 

“… She just went silent… She didn’t speak again until I asked what she was planning on making. Then she started talking like normal again. And then… she sent me a text that just said she’d set out a place for me. No mention of you. This part of me… this life of mine doesn’t even exist in their eyes…”

“But she didn’t say ‘no’, did she?”

I hadn’t realised I’d shouted until Marco was looking at me, completely stunned. 

Still, I just gritted my teeth and continued – though I did make an effort to sound a little softer. “She may not have acknowledged it in words… but she also didn’t say you couldn’t bring me. Maybe they just don’t say anything because they’re trying to stop themselves from saying anything hurtful.”

“You haven’t seen–”

“Let’s go this weekend. You and me, let’s go together. Then they’ll see it. They’ll see us, and they’ll see you. Every part of you.”

I reached out, pulling Marco back up and brining his face to mine. My fingers stroked the tears away from his cheeks as he remained motionless. 

“You’re right. The people who brought you up could never be bad people.”

It hadn’t been my intention to make him cry harder, but that was the result. Still, something about the way he kissed me next told me those were different kinds of tears to the ones before. And the way he pulled me into his arms and whispered ‘I love you’ into my neck made me sure that I’d said the right thing. 

I didn’t know if I’d _done_ the right thing though. As Marco huddled into my arms, I seriously hoped this wasn’t going to make anything worse. If I went to dinner at the weekend, it would mean his parents _couldn’t_ ignore his sexuality anymore. I didn’t know if that would bring about a good result… I could only hope. It wasn’t something I’d let myself worry about though. 

What I should have probably worried about was that I’d just agreed to the whole ‘meet-the-parents’ thing. 

And that was pretty fucking terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also, i really hope this chapter makes sense... i keep getting the impression my writing is getting weird atm... so sorry!)


	19. Along the Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't know what's waiting at the end of these tracks, but maybe it's best they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tradition of getting chunks of writing finished on my birthday, so yay for another chapter!  
> Sorry the updates are getting slower now, folks - mixture of writer's block and lots of work shifts is really getting to me. I'm done for the summer now, so hopefully I'll get back in the swing of things soon - no promises I'm afraid... so the udates might be sort of sporadic for a while... Sorry.
> 
> You can find me [on tumblr here!](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com)  
> Please enjoy ^^

The bedroom’s dark and blurry when my eyes flicker open – sticking together with sleep that I’d usually immediately rub away, but my arms are wrapped around a waist that my mind tells me not to let go off just yet. Besides, as groggy as I felt this morning, there was no way I could be bothered to try and move just yet, so I let my eyelids drop closed again. There’s no filming today – thank you God for creating Sundays (not that we haven’t worked on a Sunday before) – so there’s no harm in just dozing off until, say, sometime around four this evening. 

“Don’t go back to sleep, the alarm’s ringing for a reason,” the voice beside me says. As my brain starts to finally wake up a little, I realise the reason I’d woken in the first place was because of that horrific blaring noise coming from my bedside table (I used to like Fall Out Boy until Marco put ‘Dance Dance’ as his alarm sound. Now I wanted to cry whenever they came on), and also because my boyfriend had actually sat up – which may also explain why it felt like such a chore to move my arms, seeing as they were still awkwardly wrapped around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed feeling around in the darkness to turn off the alarm. 

In the end, the song stopped, and Marco groaned loudly, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up…

… which was the first sign that I was forgetting something. Marco, as much as I loved him, had this fucking shitty habit of being super snuggly and happy in the morning (which was only a problem because in the mornings I tend to feel somewhat homicidal) – so if he was feeling grumpy with sleep? Fuck, how early was it?

Letting out long moans as I forced my body to start moving, I crawled across the bed until I was right next to him. Propping myself up on my elbows, I reached out to grab his phone. He watched me with an expectant gaze as I pressed the button to make the screen light up and show the time. 

“Ok, what is this?” I asked, holding the phone up to Marco – I would claim to be glaring at him, but my eyes could barely stay open.

“That is the time, Jean.”

“Then there’s some mistake, because I don’t get up at 5am on a Sunday.”

“We have a train to catch.”

I shuffled, resting my cheek on Marco’s lap since my body was quickly giving in to exhaustion. I was about to ask what he was on about, when a nagging thought in the back of my mind decided to nag a little louder. 

“Oh fuck…” 

“Yep. It’s today.”

Since that day in the dressing room when I told Marco we would go to his parents’ for dinner, I’d been rapidly wishing I’d never said anything. Sure, Marco probably needed to do this, but the more I thought about it the more I dreaded it – there were too many things that could go wrong. Though, I supposed I’d signed myself up for it now; wasn’t anywhere to run anymore. 

Well, actually there were plenty of places to run, but I doubted Marco would appreciate that.

“Can’t we sleep just a couple more hours?” I grumbled, pushing myself upright and lying against Marco’s back. “I mean, how early do your parents eat?”

Marco sighed, but he was wearing his ‘Jean’s being a little shit, but I still like him’ smile, so I wasn’t being too unreasonable, at least. “We have to ride the underground to get to the main train station, so yeah, we have to be up this early.”

“I can drive.”

“Like everyone else clogging up the roads on their way to visit their families or something? Traffic is unpredictable. The underground, slightly better.”

My only reply was a small, unintelligible grumble. 

The two of us stayed still and quiet for a moment – I, myself, was just about falling asleep against Marco’s back when he gave a small chuckle. “Jean?”

“Hm?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate what it implies, but it’s hard to force myself to head for the shower whilst you’re pressing into me…”

For a moment, in my groggy state, I thought Marco was complaining about me leaning on him – though the blush on his face made that seem unlikely. That’s when I noticed how hot I was – and it wasn’t just the usual ‘been buried under the covers all night’ warmth. 

Yep. Morning wood. Hadn’t had that in a while. 

“Well, doesn’t everyone try and sneak as many quickies as possible in when meeting the parents? It’s like the perfect smut set-up!” I grinned. 

“Stop browsing those weird sex story websites, Jean.”

“It’s called _fanfiction_ , and they have some pretty good shit on there.”

Rolling his eyes, Marco shrugged me off him and stood up – wandering across the room to start digging out some clothes for the day. “I don’t care if you read it, just stop reading the ones that are about us, please!”

“They’re not about _us_. They’re about Chris and Jake!”

“Who are us,” Marco said pointedly, turning back to me holding two shirts up. “Which one says ‘I’m not as stereotypically gay as you’re thinking, please don’t hate me’ most clearly?”

“Well not the _pink_ one,” He glanced at the pink shirt he was holding and gave an embarrassed smile before putting it back – keeping a hold of the other one (blue, I think? It was took dark to see exactly). I rolled back over, sitting up against the headboard and watching as Marco moved about the room picking out clothes. “So… about the morning se–”

“Jean…” Marco warned without looking up at me. He draped the clothes he’d decided on over the back of the desk chair. “I’m heading in the shower first, doze until I’m done if you want, but afterwards, you’re getting out of bed whether you like it or not.”

“You know what would wake me up? S–”

“No shower sex either!” 

I never thought at my age I’d have to sit in bed and pout whilst waiting for my hard-on to disappear. By the time Marco was out the shower, it had pretty much gone… and so had I, so he had to shake me awake again. He gave me a muttered apology and promised he’d repay me with interest “if we make it back from the slaughterhouse”. 

The shower streamed down onto me – scolding me with heat since Marco always turned it up too high for my liking, and I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to care enough to turn it down. Marco had already decided this dinner was going to be a huge disaster – or, at the very least, a spectacular failure. I didn’t know what his parents were thinking about this whole thing either, but judging from what Marco had told me and the fact they hadn’t mentioned me coming today in any of their messages to Marco since (Marco had said he was at least grateful they were still talking to him), I doubted they were confident about this dinner either.

Which meant I was the only person in this equation that could be positive. 

Great, me as the optimistic one? No one wanted that. That meant things were dire indeed. 

I silently listened to the dull drone of the TV coming from the living room as I towelled my hair dry. It wasn’t hard to tell that Marco had only put it on to try and distract himself; by the time I got the bathroom, he’d given up on trying to watch and was just sitting on the sofa staring at his hands. 

I wandered across, towel around my waist and stood behind him. His head turned slightly, noting my presence, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss against neck. “It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Do you need a proper hug, or space?”

“Both,” He peered up at me, a small but genuine smile on his face. “Go get dressed then come give me one?”

“Got it.” 

I owned a limited number of dress shirts – _very_ limited I discovered when I headed to my bedroom (used primarily for storage at this stage) and started digging through my wardrobe. Maybe I was just freaking out a little at the whole ‘meeting the potentially homophobic parents’ thing, but every single shirt I pulled out wasn’t good enough. This one was too casual. This one was too formal. All of these were too gay (and by ‘gay’ I meant ‘oh god, what if they think the blue stripes on this white shirt are a reference to the gay flag?’, because yes, it reached that stage of panic). Eventually, I cracked. 

So much for being the positive one. 

“Marco! Dress me!”

The face that Marco pulled when he turned around to see me standing in the living room in just boxers, holding five different shirts in my hands, said everything. Thankfully, my boyfriend isn’t shitty as I am, so he came and helped out. 

Seven different outfits and one long hug later (I was the one who needed the hug by that point), and I was ready to leave the house in my best jeans and a black shirt. I was the one who demanded I wear Marco’s thin red tie (gotta look swish for the boyfriend’s folks), while Marco stuck to plain khakis and his blue shirt. He looked significantly more formal than me, but I guess my jeans dressed me down a little? 

“Just got to get through lunch,” Marco assured me as he started pushing me out the front door at 7. “If things get really bad, we can just leave.”

“No we can’t. They’re your parents,” I told him as we headed down the stairs. 

“And you’re my boyfriend.” Marco was looking much more confident than when he first woke up. I got the impression that was only because he was so sure things would go wrong – that he was resigning himself to have to give up on his parents today. 

There was an entrance to the subway pretty close to us, so we didn’t have to head far. Once on it though, I was already hating Marco for not letting me drive; though it would have been a million times worse if it wasn’t Sunday morning, the little trains were stuffy and cramped and awful. It was a good half hour ride to the main train station further towards the edge of the city, and I’d never been so thankful to get into the huge brick building. Marco’s parents, from what little he’d told me, lived pretty far into the country, so he’d had to pre-book tickets to get to some tiny-ass station near their house.

As Marco went to go get the tickets, I stood against one of the walls, watching the flocks of people moving through the station. They all herded around near the ticket offices – where the large billboard hung giving out train information – and whenever a train pulled in or was about to leave, it was like a tsunami of people passed through. I’d never really needed train stations much; my parents lived in a town just an hours bus ride out of the city, so I’d never really needed to go anywhere else before. If I had an audition in another city or something, then I’d take the train, but come on, my editor was Hanji. You really think we ever got the station in time to do anything but sprint for our train?

“Ok, we got about an hour before the train leaves,” Marco said as he wandered back over. “Want to grab a coffee or something?” 

He pointed down the station at one of the little cafés; I was more than happy to take him up on that offer and we headed over. 

That hour before the train got in was sort of great. I’m pretty sure that no matter how long I’m with Marco, I’ll never stop loving just sitting and talking to him. He was ridiculous and stupid and perfect and took just enough of my shit to be bearable (ie. not Jaeger), but not so much that he was a boring pushover. Sitting at that cramped little table in the corner of the cramped little train coffee shop, heads bent low and hands linked as we talked… I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment. For a little while, it was like we were the only people in the world. 

“We should probably had over to the platform now,” Marco sighed, glancing at his watch. “Maybe we should just have lunch here…”

I squeezed his hand and laughed. “Come on, before you actually convince me.”

That was the moment I looked up and saw the whole shop was staring back. 

As soon as my face registered the shock at seeing a room full of eyes looking my way, most of the onlookers quickly tried to avert their gazes. It was too late for that. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I remembered that it hadn’t been all that long since a certain photo was published…

My hand was squeezed, and before I knew it I was being causally led out the café. Marco kept a tight grip on me, smiling and talking about something or another – I wasn’t sure, I’d sort of been too focused trying to figure out if Marco had noticed the eyes on us to listen to what he was saying. By the time we were walking along the bridge to the platform for our train, Marco cottoned on to the fact his words were going in one ear and out the other. 

“Yeah, I noticed them. Stared back at a few,” he said – answering my silent questions. 

“Then… why didn’t you let go of my hand?”

He came to a stop, eyebrows narrowing in worry. “Sorry, did you want me to?”

“N-no! I just… thought _you_ would have wanted to.”

Marco breathed a sigh of relief and started walking again – his thumb stroked across my hand as we turned and headed down the steps onto our platform. “Well, every magazine in the country has me with my tongue shoved down your throat on the cover… so what’s the point in freaking out over a pair of entwined hands?”

I just stared at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief. He peered up and down the tracks trying to work out which way the train would come from, before looking back at me and shuffling uncomfortably. “What is it?”

“Nothing… It’s just…” I couldn’t stop the smirk from twisting its way onto my lips. “That sounded like something I would say.”

Marco’s own lip curled upwards, and the smallest blush appeared on his cheeks. “Yeah. You’re a crappy influence, that’s for sure.”

“Hey, I’ll be proud if you become half as crappy as me…” I stared straight ahead at the tracks. There was no way I’d be able to control myself if I kept looking at Marco. 

The train pulled in after about five more minutes of Marco and I tossing odd comments back and forth – small talk as we both made it painfully obvious that we sort of wished to re-enact the photo from the magazines. As we stepped into our carriage and wandered down the aisle to find out reserved seats, I poked Marco in the back and waggled my eyebrows suggestively at how empty the carriage was. I mean, yeah, there was an old couple at the far end, and a small family sitting at one of the table seats, but other than them there were just a couple of lone stragglers. He rolled his eyes and slipped into the window seat. 

Yeah, I sat perhaps a little too squashed up against him, but I didn’t care. 

The two of us were pretty silent as the train pulled away, and kept that way until the city scenery started to vanish, replaced by the skirting towns and villages. Soon, there was nothing but fields and farmland for as far as the eye could see. 

“You know,” I said, leaning back into my seat and drawing shapes on Marco’s knee. “This would be quite nice, or even romantic… If we weren’t speeding strait toward the slaughterhouse.”

“Maybe we should have a trip when filming’s done?” Marco offered, resting his head on my shoulder and shutting his eyes. “Go for a weekend retreat or something.”

“Yeah, like fishing.”

“Can you fish?”

“No, but isn’t that like the stereotypical trip? Off fishing to some super pretty lake?”

“That sounds more like a set-up to either a family comedy or a horror film than a romance.”

The discussion over what the proper set-up should be for our romantic getaway quickly spiralled into drawing up a plan of action for when the ghosts of dead fisherman and zombies attacked on our fishing trip to the abandoned and haunted ski resort. And that, quickly descendant into sleepy chats about what we would get up to when we realised we were the last people in the country surviving (not the whole world, we decided, we needed somewhere to head to when we were tired of the whole ‘last people alive’ thing). Before I knew it, we were cuddled up together, fingers still tangled, dozing off. 

Completely oblivious to what lay at the end of the tracks.


	20. Almost to the Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least the food was good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supremely long chapter ahoy  
> *buries herself in a hole*
> 
> [My tumblr!](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com)

The rain pummelled against the cheap glass roof overhead. In general, the ‘train station’ (that resembled a shitty bus shelter more than anything else) provided little shelter from the trashing rain as it attacked the countryside around us. The trees that hung low by the tiny car park looked like they were slowly being beaten down, and I was actually starting to feel a silent comradery with the cows in the field opposite the train tracks – they looked as miserable as I felt. 

Though, no one looked as downtrodden as Marco did standing beside me. 

In the half hour since we’d gotten off the train, we’d watched maybe two or three cars come and go. There was a taxi rank here – that had one taxi in, and that was all – but Marco was adamant we didn’t need it. 

“They’ll come…” 

That was it. The same phrase muttered over and over for the past half hour. He stared out at the road that led into the little car park, perking up a tiny bit every time he heard the rumble of an engine, only to sink again when he didn’t recognise the car. He’d seemed ok-ish on the train down, but the closer we got to the stop, the quieter he became. Now, he wasn’t even reacting to me when I spoke. 

His parents lived a good way from this station – you couldn’t walk there, and there were no public buses that travelled to his particular village, so you had no choice but to get picked up or hail a taxi. Every time Marco had come home from the city, his parents were waiting on the platform to drive him back. He said he was pretty sure they arrived much earlier than the train was due to arrive – that once they’d even stood waiting until snow had built up on their shoulders and in their hair. 

Every time. 

Until now. 

“Marco…” I said, reaching out to tug at his sleeve. “Let’s just get a cab, yeah?”

His eyes flickered slightly – processing what I was saying – but didn’t turn his gaze from the road. “They’ll come. They know the time. I texted them.”

My heart was breaking for him. “Maybe they’ve been so busy preparing dinner, they just couldn’t make it? Or maybe they assumed we’d prefer to meet them at the house? I’d rather meet them in a nice, warm hallway than out here in this weather.” I laughed, desperately trying to lighten his mood. The fact my voice broke in the middle of it probably had the opposite effect. 

His shoulders dropped. “Of course… why pick up a son when he doesn’t exist?”

“Marco…”

He didn’t give me a chance to say much else, instead stepping out from under the shelter and heading towards the lone taxi. I followed, no longer caring about how soaked I got. Half an hour ago I was worried about turning up to the boyfriend’s parents’ looking like a drowned rat. Now? I didn’t really care what they thought about me so much. I was too busy despising them for making Marco look like that. 

The taxi driver seemed confused as to why we’d suddenly opted to go to him, when we’d been waiting all this time. He quickly fell silent when we both dropped into the backseat looking like we were heading to a funeral. Marco gave the address, and we were off – barely optimistic enough by this point to even have the will to wipe away the rain drops running down out cheeks. 

The world rushed by the window, and all I could do was watch it pass silently and wonder just what excuse they’d give Marco for leaving him like this. A few minutes into the journey, Marco reached across to take my hand; all I could do to offer him comfort was hold onto it tight. 

“Did you send your parents their tickets for the premiere?” 

His question caught me a little off guard; of all the things to talk about right now, I didn’t think my parents were something Marco would want to discuss. 

“Yeah…” I watched his reactions carefully, ready to shut up if he showed the slightest hint of being uncomfortable or upset. “They may not come though.”

“Why?”

“They don’t know if the ‘premiere scene’ is one they want to be at. They want to go see it on their own, and pay with their own money.”

His mouth curled slightly. “That’s sweet of them.”

“Not really… they probably just don’t want to be somewhere where they’ll have to actively praise me for something,” I sighed. “Besides, I’d rather they didn’t come. My mum will just end up fawning over bloody Jaeger, and Dad will probably lecture Pixis on the homoerotic undertones of the movie…”

Marco turned, raising his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Dad’s got _really_ into researching stuff like that since the magazine incident,” I muttered coldly. 

Marco’s smile widened, and I’d even dare to say I heard a hint of a chuckle. He shuffled a little closer, tightening his grip on my hand. “Well… if today is a total disaster, think I can just let your parents adopt me?”

I scoffed. “Please. They’ve probably already got pictures of you framed and on the mantle.”

“You sent them pictures of me?”

“No. But they’ll have them.”

I think Marco had lost track of where we were, since he blinked and peered around in confusion when the taxi pulled to a stop. His eyes landed on a house across the street, and I could _feel_ how seeing it chilled him to the bone. 

“£27.50, please lads,” the driver said, twisting in his seat – looking a tad reserved about the atmosphere that was seeping from Marco once again. I took the moment to pay him, giving him a decent tip in hopes that would make up for the tension that had been filling his taxi. 

And then, way before I felt prepared, Marco and I were standing on the pavement. 

The house in front of us felt too pleasant and sweet to be the setting for this dinner; neat flower boxes on the windows, trimmed garden and pretty little pond surrounding the pebbled path and driveway. The rain had lightened up, so it was just a drizzling a touch – but in this setting, even the rain seemed picturesque. I suppose that’s the country for you. 

I wasn’t really sure whether Marco wanted me to hold his hand again now we were here, so I figured it was best to keep my hands to myself. I watched him carefully, waiting for him to prepare himself. With one deep breath, he stepped onto the drive, and the two of us wandered up to the front door. 

One more deep breath, and he knocked. 

I didn’t even have time to have a last minute panic – the door opened almost immediately. 

“It really annoys me when people just stand on the pavement for ages.”

I glanced at the man standing on the front step with me briefly – blinking just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things – before looking back at the person staring at us from the doorway. No, I wasn’t losing my mind. The person standing before us, looking like he was losing the will to live with every second that passed, was pretty much just… Marco. Marco in glasses. Ok yeah, he was a little taller, a little scrawnier, but it didn’t change the fact that he looked _exactly_ like Marco. Maybe I would have picked up on some differences if I spent a little more time looking between the two, but at that moment I was just trying to work out how Marco’s dad could possibly look this young. 

“I wasn’t told you were coming,” Marco said slowly – looking just as confused as I did. 

“Yes well,” Glasses Marco said with a shrug. “Even I have to show my face to my parents now and then.” It was at that moment that he turned his gaze onto me. I quickly noticed another difference between him and the actual Marco – my Marco would never look down his nose at someone like this jack-ass did. “Are you coming in, or just standing out in the rain all day?”

He turned and headed into the house without waiting for an answer. At the prompt, Marco and I stepped in and shut the door behind us. I made a point to wipe my shoes on the welcome mat, and took the chance to turn to Marco. 

“That is…?”

“David…” Marco frowned. “My older brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“One I see at Christmas… _if_ he feels like it. He’s barely shown his face since he left home.”

“Are all the Bodts as welcoming as him? Because I don’t want to feel _too_ at home.”

He smiled apologetically, and pulled me further into the house. The place felt pristine; like I’d dirty something just by touching it – which was probably something David Bodt thought too judging by the way he looked at me when Marco led me into the kitchen. Not that I had time to be worrying about him… seeing as the two people I was _actually_ here to meet were in the kitchen. 

The man sitting at the small table glanced up from his book as we walked in. It wasn’t hard to see that both Bodt children took after their father; he had the same face as both of them, only free of freckles and much more haggard. I was sure he could look as warm and open as Marco if he wanted, but right now he resembled the colder Bodt siblings – eyes stony and boring straight into me as I stood there. There was a moment of quiet as the two of us took one another in, but eventually he closed his eyes and let out a low sigh – like he’d come to a conclusion of sorts. 

Pushing himself to his feet, he wandered over and gave Marco a warm smile. “Glad you could make it,” Someone I felt like that part was just for Marco. He looked between us and noticed our wet clothes. “You’re both soaked through.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco stiffen, so I figured it was time for me to step in.

“The rain was pretty horrendous over at the station,” I said. I decided not to mention we were only this wet because we’d been left to stand there for half an hour, and something in the man’s eyes said he knew that. 

He nodded. “Indeed. You must be Mr Kirschtein?” He held out his hand, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d earned his respect by not mentioning out wait. 

“Jean’s fine. Thanks for having me.” He didn’t even break my bones when I shook his hand, so I was starting to think things were looking up. Even Marco seemed more relaxed. 

“I hope you eat meat,” Mr Bodt said as he wandered back over to his seat at the table. “We didn’t think to prepare a vegetarian option.”

“You’ll not find anything that Jean won’t hoover down,” Marco said from beside me. When I looked over at him, he was smiling hopefully – his father’s reaction had clearly relaxed him a little. He met my gaze and grinned. “I’m pretty sure you could put leather down and he’d still eat it.”

His smile was contagious. “You’re talking as if I’m a pig…”

“Well, if the state of our cupboards are anything to go by…”

“I lived with _Sasha_ for three years. That’s three years of having my food stolen. I take what I can get!” I reached out and gave him a playful shove – nearly jumping for joy when he laughed. And I mean, he laughed _properly_.

The excitement that filled me when I started to think this would go alright quickly disappeared however, when another voice cut Marco’s laugh short. 

“Andrew, will you get the drinks, dear? Dinner will be ten minutes. David, Marco, you may as well go sit down.”

I suppose pretty much everyone had forgotten about the last person in the room. Marco’s mother stood at the stove, her back still the only part of her I’d seen. Her voice was calm, soft, light – like she was just talking to her family on a normal day – but there was something about the level at which she spoke that left me feeling wary once again. Besides… she hadn’t even turned to greet her son since he’d stepped inside.

After a brief chorus of confirmation from the Bodt males, Marco gave me a smile and we headed next door. I was glad to see another table set up - I’d been a tad worried we’d all be squeezing around that little kitchen table, but I should have guessed this fancy country house had its own dining room. 

Then I did the maths. 

There were only four places set. 

David took a seat straight away – eyes glued to his phone. Marco and I stopped in our tracks as we both came to the same realisation at the same time. We just stood there, completely frozen and at a loss. 

Mr Bodt passed by us, placing a drink down in front of David and turned to us. Even he seemed a bit lost for words. Glancing over at Marco, I shivered. 

He was glaring at his father. 

“What would you like to drink?” Mr Bodt asked. This time he was only looking at me. I didn’t know if he was trying to appear welcoming, or if he just didn’t want to meet the glare from his son. “We have soft drinks, wine, beer?”

_How about some of that very expensive, very alcoholic looking whiskey in the cabinet over there?_ I fucking needed a drink right now. But, for Marco’s benefit if anyone’s, I just asked for a water. Mr Bodt nodded, and only then looked over at his son.

Marco didn’t respond. 

He spun around and marched back into the kitchen. I couldn’t even turn to watch him go – I was rooted to the spot. Mr Bodt’s gaze had lowered a bit, eyebrows drawn together and the two of us stood silently as we listened to sounds of drawers and cupboards slamming in the kitchen. 

Moments later, Marco was back. Storming straight past me to the table. Taking no care to be delicate or quiet, he set another place to eat. When he was finished, he straightened up and ran his hands through his hair – taking an audible breath in to calm himself. Looking back up, he met his father’s eyes. 

“Beer please, Dad.”

Mr Bodt just nodded, and moved past me. 

He met my gaze next, and didn’t even blink as he made a point to sit down at the place he’d just set. Motioning to the place beside him, he nodded to tell me to come and sit. The floor felt like liquid tar that I had to wade through before I was finally sitting down beside Marco. Across the table, David cocked an eyebrow at us, before shaking his head and returning his focus to his phone. 

Marco pulled out his own phone and glanced at it. “Reiner wants to know if we want to meet up tomorrow.”

Yes, yes, good. Distracting conversations that had nothing to do with the god-awful atmosphere in this house was welcome. “Who’s going?” 

“He believes the, quote, ‘gay club and their baes’ should meet up and get Chinese.”

“I’d really rather not get Chinese with Levi…”

“Would he actually come?”

“Depends how good Eren is–” I clamped my mouth shut just before _‘at sucking dick’_ tumbled out. Marco clearly knew what I’d been about to say since he bit his lip to hold back a smile. 

“I’ll tell him we’ll go.”

The room was quiet once again – filled only by the clicks of Marco and David typing away – but it wasn’t long before Mr Bodt appeared with more drinks. He didn’t say anything, since he went straight back into the kitchen and started bringing out dishes of food. 

It was your typical Sunday roast layout; piles of vegetables and _three_ different types of potatoes (why you needed three types, I didn’t know, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain about more food). The last things to come out were the Yorkshire puddings (homemade, hallelujah!), and the beef. It all looked good enough to make me briefly forget about the awkward situation, and I didn’t even notice that Mrs Bodt had sat herself down until she spoke. 

“Dig in.”

“Thanks very much” rippled around the table from each of us. 

Marco took great pleasure in piling my plate high with as much as he could – despite my complaints that he was turning my meal into a game of jenga. I gave up and just sighed loudly when he started drowning the food mountain in gravy. Finally I managed to make him leave me alone and get his own damn dinner. 

“How’s work, David?” Mrs Bodt asked. 

“Fine.”

“Are those new clients behaving?”

“Yes.”

There were a few more exchanges like that: Mrs Bodt asking something, and David giving one-word replies. I quickly figured he wasn’t the chatty type. I assumed when she realised she was getting nowhere with him, she’d turn the question onto Marco. 

Nope. 

The room fell silent. 

So I reckoned I might as well try. 

“What do you do, David?”

The family – even Marco – seemed stunned that I’d spoken. David looked at me, his fork hovering in front of his mouth, like he was trying to work out what I was thinking or something. Placing his fork down again, he tilted his head. 

“I assumed Marco would have told you,” he said. 

“I didn’t even know he had siblings until today.”

His moth twitched slightly. The smallest hint of a smirk as he turned and raised his eyebrows at Marco. “Charming.”

“Why would I talk about a brother I barely see?” Marco shrugged. 

David didn’t respond and turned back to me again. “I’m a consultant for a number of important oil firms.”

I nodded slowly for a moment. “So… what do you do?”

David sighed and started eating again whilst Marco sniggered. “He tells big oil companies if they can legally get away with immoral things.”

“Better than spending my life playing pretend in the hopes of getting petty cash,” David muttered. 

“Say that to my pay check,” Marco muttered back. 

Now _this_ was starting to feel more like a family dinner. 

Well, until the woman who was clearly the devil in disguise went and destroyed the slightly improving atmosphere. 

“I ran into Hannah Diamant at the store the other day,” Mrs Bodt said – suddenly speaking very loudly. “Didn’t you go to school with her, Marco? Beautiful girl. She’s a teacher over at Rothburn High now. You should get back in touch with her. I’m sure she had a bit of a fancy for you in school.”

Honestly, I could have laughed. 

“Isn’t she married?” Mr Bodt asked. The moment the words left his mouth, Mrs Bodt’s head snapped up glowering across the table at him. It was the first time I’d gotten a proper look at her; she had Marco’s freckles, and his hair, but that was really all the resemblance between the two. Just like Mr Bodt, she could have looked like a kind person if she wasn’t set on spending the whole day with this grimace on her face. 

“Not that it would matter if she wasn’t,” Marco pointed out – the irritation clear in his voice. “You know, seeing as I’m in a serious relationship and _gay_.”

The word hung in the air. Slowly, Mrs Bodt’s eyes drifted across the room, and for the first time since we’d arrived, she looked at Marco. 

“How are you getting on at your new place, Marco?” she asked. 

He placed his knife and fork down, and met her gaze straight on. Challenging her. “Jean and I have settled in really well.”

She flinched at my name. 

“How’s your agent? Mina, wasn’t it?”

“Great. She’s been really supportive since Jean and my relationship was leaked.”

“The park down the road you used to love is being torn down, you know? They’re building apartments there, I think.”

“Really? I should take Jean there to see it while we still have a chance.”

Her fork clattered onto her plate loudly. “Marco!”

Marco’s fist slammed into the table. “Mum!”

I stared at his fist; still sitting on the table, clenched so tightly it was turning white. He was shaking. 

“Marco…” I reached out to touch his arm. 

“WHY ARE YOU COMFORTING HIM?”

The screech made me jump. When I looked back at Mrs Bodt, she was staring at me wide-eyed. I wasn’t the best at reading people, but… I don’t know… As much as Marco might say otherwise, I don’t think there was anger or hatred in the way she looked at me. More like… fear?

I was so busy trying to work out that gaze that I didn’t respond before Marco. 

“He’s my _boyfriend_ , Mum! Of course he’s trying to comfort me!”

“ _Boyfriend_ ,” She spat the word. “He didn’t even know you had a brother!”

“Wow, I can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to talk to him about my family!” 

“He’s just some low-life actor you’ve met on a film! You’re getting all caught up in the city life and your job and you somehow think that’s love! You really think this boy cares about you at all? He’s probably just using you to get publicity!” She was becoming more and more hysterical. “You can’t fall in love with a man!”

“Laura…” Mr Bodt’s steady voice was ignored. 

“Just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean I can’t fall in love! He knows me better than any of you do, because at least he acknowledges _every part of me_ , no matter what!”

“I am your _mother_.”

“So why do I feel like I don’t even exist?”

I caught his arm just as he was about to stand up. The shouting stopped, at least for now, and Marco just looked at me – begging me to let go so we could leave. I understood; I mean, I could see how upset he was, how hurt he was by his own mother. Hell, I’d been wanting to drag him out of the hell hole the moment his mum started treating him like shit (so, the moment we walked in?). But no. I stayed in my seat. I kept Marco in his. Not because I was mature enough to know that storming out wouldn’t solve anything. Not because I felt like I could fix the relationship here. Not because I thought talking things through calmly would someone make his mother love me like her own son. 

I stayed because I’m an immature brat who’d just listened to a complete stranger badmouth me and imply I didn’t know or care about Marco. 

And I was fucking pissed. 

“This guy…” I said slowly, waiting for my voice to sound not so tense and everyone to shut the fuck up and pay attention. “Invites me out for coffee, and doesn’t even get coffee, because he’s a huge wuss who thinks it’s too bitter even with sugar.”

“Jean, what are you–” 

I didn’t let Marco speak. “He can go from pissing himself laughing at my fuck-ups, to giving the most emotionally moving performance I’ve ever seen, faster than I can blink. He was so adorably embarrassed at seeing my old flatmate topless, that he tried to run straight out of the apartment. He still goes and pays weekly visits to the old couple who he used to live with because he ‘doesn’t want them to feel lonely’, and is even getting them tickets to our premiere. He spends _hours_ deciding what to order, even if we’re just at McDonalds, and yet always gets the same thing in the end. And, if there’s mayonnaise on it, he has a silent freak out. But he’ll never take the order back and say he asked for it without mayo, because that’s ‘too rude to the workers’! And then he’ll go and eat it anyway, before promptly throwing up all over my newly cleaned car because he _really_ hates mayonnaise.

“He gets stressed when I wear my socks inside out – and will actively tackle me to the floor, if it means stopping me from leaving before putting them on properly. He does this twiddly thing with his fingers when he’s embarrassed or trying to hide something, and buries himself into the closest pair of arms when he’s upset. He dances when he’s cooking, but only when he thinks no one’s watching, and balls like a baby when an animal dies in a film. Not humans. Just the animals. Every time. Without fail. 

“I cried, _I cried for real_ , when we were filming his character’s death scene. I also cried when I threw up on him drunk because he was blaming himself for not stopping me sooner – even though he was nowhere near me all night! He spent four hours in the back seat of a car rubbing my back as I threw up into a bag, and then wouldn’t leave until I was cleaned up, changed, and asleep in my bed. When he has a nightmare, he doesn’t want to wake me up, so he’ll just shuffle closer and play with my hair until he’s calm again. And yes, sorry Marco, that does wake me up, but I don’t really care.”

I took a breath and narrowed my eyes at Mrs Bodt. No one spoke. No one _breathed_. 

“So,” I continued. “I may not know about his brother who he sees once a year, and I didn’t even know about his shitty, unaccepting parents until he broke down over you this week. But I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say I don’t know him. Call me what you want, but I’m not sitting here listening to you say this shit to the man I’m in love with. Ok? Cool.”

I placed my knife and fork together – the food on my plate had long gone cold – and stood. Marco seemed a bit too stunned to move for a moment, but quickly realised that he was supposed to be standing to leave with me. He did it in a hurry, still staring at me in shock as he took my waiting hand, and just like that I was pulling him away from the table. 

“And your parents?”

I paused, glancing back over my shoulder at the rest of the Bodts. Mrs Bodt stared at me – her face flickering between panic and something else I couldn’t quite name. 

“Do your parents approve of… _this_?”

I frowned. “Well… my mum was pissed. But only because she bet my dad £20 that I was completely gay,” My expression turned blank. “My parents don’t really care about my life choices as long as I’m happy.”

I didn’t wait around for anything else. Marco and I headed straight out the front door – hands gripped tight and mouth clenched shut as we headed straight down the driveway. The rain had stopped, and as we reached the street, Marco made it clear we were to go left along the street. We kept walking, silent and solemn, until we came across a small play park. 

It was empty right now – the weather still wasn’t really nice enough for kids to be out, especially with all the equipment still wet from the earlier showers. That didn’t seem to faze Marco though; he just headed straight inside, only letting go of my hand to sit down on one of the swings. I took the one beside him. 

And finally, I groaned. 

“Oh my god…” I dropped my head into my hands. “I’m so sorry…”

“What for?” Marco asked. 

“I swore in front of your parents!”

I heard a soft chuckle. “Of all the things to apologise for…” I didn’t respond. The reality of what I’d just done was slowly tumbling down and suffocating me in shame and embarrassment. There was a brief squeak of the swing chains as Marco stood, and then a pair of hands were on my cheeks, forcing me to lift my head. 

Marco stood before me, smiling down with slightly red cheeks and shining eyes. He leant down, pressing his lips against mine and sighing against the kiss. It was the best part of the whole day; Marco held my face tight, refusing to let me reflect on the disastrous dinner by distracting me with his tongue. I sunk into the moment, reaching up to pull him closer and closer…

…and then a little too close, because he was falling and then I was falling. 

My back hit the woodchips beneath the swings a little hard, but I found myself laughing as Marco toppled over the swing with me. Our arms still wrapped around each other, and lips still pressed against each other, even though we were both groaning with pain and sniggering away. 

“Jean…”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

I opened my eyes, taking in his smile and the tears forming in his eyes, and just pulled him down again. He buried his face into my shoulder. 

All I could do as he started to cry was lay there and hold him tighter.


	21. Love and Hate are closer than you think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Jean thought things couldn't get any weirder... he makes an unlikely friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... one more chapter to go! 
> 
> I can not stress how much I love writing Jean, especially in chapter's like this one where he's just a little shit.  
> Hope you guys enjoy it ;) Look forward to the next chapter which will be THE LAST O.O
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr!](http://freckledboty.tumblr.com)

The next few weeks were a blur of final shoots, interviews, more ‘gay club’ meetings (thanks Reiner), and lazing about under the duvet. Marco didn’t really mention his family and what happened, he seemed to have been all cried out by the time we’d gotten back to the city… but he also looked relieved. He was back to his usual self; like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d faced up to them, and it seemed like that was enough for now. 

“Alright,” Marco called as he came out of the bedroom, fiddling with the tie he was trying to put on. “There’s some leftover curry on the bench, you do know how to heat it up, right?”

I flicked the TV off and shot a glare over the back of the sofa at him. “You talk to my mum way too much. I put the fork in the microwave _one time_.”

“One time’s all it takes to blow my house up,” Marco winked, positioning his tie over his shirt. He wandered through to the kitchen, rattling around for a moment, and came back over and dropped his hands helplessly to his sides. “Should I put some suit pants on instead?”

I rolled my eyes and turned the TV back on. “Jeans are fine, it’s just dinner and drinks. It’s not a date or anything.”

“Who said it’s not?” Marco’s sing-song voice asked. 

“You’re banging me. There’s no way you’d need anyone else.”

He chuckled, and I heard him padding over. He stepped in front of me, blocking my view for the TV and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t wait up, ok? I know you’re exhausted. And Mina likes to go all out when she’s celebrating.”

I sunk into the cushions, pouting. “This is bullshit. Why does everyone else get their agents taking them out to celebrate? You get a fancy dinner, Jaeger gets laid… Do you know what Hanji did to ‘congratulate’ me for finishing the film? She let off a stink bomb in her office and locked me in there.”

Marco grimaced. “I know. I had to live with you stinking for the next few days.”

“I knew that was why you made me sleep in the other bedroom! ‘Ill’ my arse.”

“You reeked, what else was I supposed to do?”

I turned my head to the side, refusing to look at my traitorous boyfriend as he rambled on about how sorry he was and that he couldn’t help it. He shuffled forward, moaning that I was ignoring him, and I did my very best to keep doing just that. Eventually his hands were hooking around my neck, and he was slipping onto my lap. 

“How about I make it up to you by helping you celebrate tonight? Would you forgive me then?” he said, rolling his hips teasingly. 

Don’t judge me. I’m a healthy young man with needs.

By the time the knock on the door interrupted us, I was pinning Marco to the sofa with my tongue half way down his throat and my hand half way down his pants. 

“Fuck, seriously?” I groaned, dropping my head onto Marco’s shoulder. 

He chuckled and patted my back. “I _did_ say we’d celebrate tonight. As in, when I get back.”

“You are a bastard. An unfair, teasing, bastard,” I said into his shoulder. 

The knocking became more hurried and Marco pressed a kiss to my head before pushing me off so he could get to the door. I felt somewhat happier watching him desperately readjusting his clothes on his way. As expected, Mina was waiting on the other side, pretty much bouncing off the walls she was so excited for her and Marco’s ‘big night out’. She lingered only long enough to make a few unnecessary jokes about how Marco would probably get hit on by everyone in the bar, and to point out that Marco’s lips looked a little swollen. Marco glared my way, but I shrugged and pointed out “You live with me, your lips are always swollen”. And then, they were gone, leaving me with nothing on tele, and a curry I was a little scared to heat up. 

Fun night with Jean Kirschtein over here. 

I’d contemplated calling someone, but Connie and Sasha were at a football game, Armin was working, Jaeger was (as previously mentioned) getting laid, which also meant Mikasa wouldn’t bother coming round. The only other options were Reiner and Christa really, but like me, they’d only just finished shooting their last scenes, so they were probably exhausted too. 

I figured that meant I was stuck watching a movie until Marco got back to give me a better type of entertainment. 

Only two hours later, and I was bored out of my skull. I was still avoiding trying to heat up the curry, and I’d gone from the Coke to the Beers to try and keep myself busy. My small but spectacular collection of DVDs were all I had once I realised just how terrible Sunday night television was. I was halfway through the first Iron Man when someone knocked on the door. 

I glanced at the clock: only seven? There was no way in hell Marco would be back already – not that he’d need to knock anyway – and it wasn’t like I’d actually called anyone up to ask them around, I just thought about it. Unless Hanji had sensed my disappointment and had come to take me out, or a neighbour, I was pretty lost for who it could be. 

They knocked again, notably irritated and I started to wonder if it really was a neighbour coming round to complain about something. (Please not loud sex… please don’t complain about the loud sex). I paused the movie and left my beer on the coffee table, growing more and more irritated myself as the knocking became more vicious. 

“Yeah, yeah, calm down!” I ordered as I pulled the door open. 

Mrs Bodt looked just as horrified to see me as I was to see her. 

“Why are you here?” she asked, face immediately taking on that grimace I’d come to know so well at her house the other week. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, only a single brown strand out of place – hanging across her forehead. If I’d been in a better mood, I might have laughed since Marco always had a stray hair in the same place on his forehead after he wakes up. But, you know, the glare she was sending me sort of robbed me of any positives feelings at all, so laughing was out of the question. 

I leant against the doorframe, arms crossed over my chest, and answered her question. “Gee, I don’t know, it’s almost like this is _my apartment_ or something.”

The amount of wrinkles on her forehead increased, so I gathered she didn’t much like the joke. “Is my son here?”

“He’s out.”

“Where?”

“Why don’t you ring him and ask?”

A flicker of something crossed over her face, but I couldn’t quite tell what. She sniffed and raised her chin even more; she wasn’t a particularly tall woman, not beside me anyway, but she still seemed determined to looking down on me.

“Marco hasn’t answered any of my calls.”

I couldn’t stop the shock from showing on my face. 

I knew Marco was still pissed about his mother’s actions (how couldn’t he be? I was!), but I didn’t know he stopped talking her. He stopped talking _about_ her… but I didn’t think anything more of it. Shit, that wasn’t really the best option… 

“You mean you didn’t know?” she asked, looking surprised herself. “I thought you had told him not to–”

“Hey!” I snapped. I hadn’t meant to snap, but I had. “I know you think I’m the devil-incarnate, and I’m cool to play the part, but, sorry to disappoint, I’m not the kind of guy who’d make his boyfriend cut off contact with his parents.” This woman was seriously trying to make me mad at her. Just what sort of person did she think I was? Some abusive, possessive boyfriend? 

Thankfully, Mrs Bodt seemed to sort of regret the accusation, shuffling a little. “Why not?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell him to cut off contact with me? I wasn’t exactly… pleasant to you.”

 _That_ was unexpected. I was starting to feel a little light-headed just from the weirdness of the situation. I sighed. “What I think of you is my business. Boyfriend or not, it’s not my place to order Marco away from people. Never mind his own parents.”

She pursed her lips, clearly thinking about the statement, and looked me over carefully. I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious that I looked a million miles from the pristine, shirt-and-tie-wearing Jean she’d met at her house. I was standing there in an old t-shirt and a pair of joggers that, judging by the fact they were a little too long for me, were probably Marco’s (I’d lost sense of whose lazy clothes were whose about a day after we moved in). Hell, I hadn’t even had a shave this morning, and I was pretty sure I had a five o’clock shadow… 

“And what do you think of me?”

I stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge just what the fuck she was doing here. To her credit, she stared back. 

Oh well.

“I think you’re a prejudice, homophobic, old hag.”

Hey, she asked.

She blinked once, slowly, and nodded. “And I think you’re a good-for-nothing chump, who wouldn’t be good enough for my son, even you were a girl.”

A dog barked somewhere inside the building, and two children sprinted up the stairs and straight past us. The world was loud and lively, whilst Mrs Bodt and I stood in a stalemate; eyes locked in some sort of stare down. 

Still without blinking, Mrs Bodt lifted her hand, and for the first time I realised she was carrying a bunch of full plastic bags. “Have you eaten?”

It took me a second to realise she had actually asked that question. I straightened up; the side of my arm that had been leaning against the door was slightly fuzzy with numbness. “Err…” I intelligently said. “Marco left me out curry.”

She scoffed. “Of course my poor son has to leave you out dinner. You’d probably starve without him.” She didn’t say anything else before marching past me and into the apartment. I couldn’t react; I just stood and let her pass, turning to watch her go in disbelief. 

“Are you going to stand their gaping or are you going to show me what dishes are actually useable?”

I was still too stunned to really process what was going on when I was sitting at the dining table with a steaming plate of Sunday roast in front of me. Mrs Bodt was doing the dishes that Marco had left me to do. 

She brought dinner. 

She brought leftovers of a Sunday roast, appeared at my door, offended me, and then forced her way inside to reheat and plate it for me. 

This was fucking surreal. 

She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’ve put Marco’s portion in the fridge. Make sure he eats it tomorrow. He needs a decent meal after he’s been drinking.”

“Sure thing,” I nodded as I started to dig in. Somehow I wondered if these leftovers were supposed to be some sort of peace treaty – bearing in mind it was literally the exact same meal as the one we’d been having at the Bodts’ house. Maybe she’d purposefully brought enough for two portions… 

I kept eating – both endlessly grateful for the decent meal, and slightly terrified of what exactly was going on here. Mrs Bodt finished washing up, leaving the dishes to dry on the rack, and came back over to take a seat at the table opposite me. She watched me eating thoughtfully.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked, having already grabbed my beer that I’d left on the coffee table. 

“No thank you, I won’t stay long if Marco is out.”

 _Then why haven’t you left yet?_ I wanted to ask. But, let’s face it, she was probably aware I was wondering that. Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the various parts of the apartment; her eyes hovered on the pin board we’d hung between the doors to the two bedrooms that we were slowly filling up with photos. 

“Andrew and David believe I behaved… needlessly, the other day,” she finally said. 

“Yeah, well, so do me and Marco.”

“I’m sure,” She turned back to me, face still pretty unreadable. “You impressed them both. David said he respects men with a backbone.”

I thought back to the other Bodt brother; yeah, I could definitely imagine him saying something like that. “He surprised me,” I said. “When he opened the door I thought I was looking at another Marco. But, you know, then he opened his mouth.”

Mrs Bodt sighed. “David’s always been… Well, let’s just say Marco got all the social graces.”

“At least we agree on something.”

We were both silent for another minute or two, before she leant back in her chair. “Andrew and I won’t be attending the film premiere.” 

“That doesn’t really surprise me…”

“I feel it would infringe upon Marco’s night, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

I didn’t know if that surprised me or not; it sounded like the sort of thing a mother would say, but somehow I felt it was weird for her to be telling _me_ this. What did she want, a medal? ‘Congrats on being a decent mother’? 

I probably shouldn’t be thinking that whilst I was eating her cooking though… 

“I… It’s not that I’m against Marco’s… way of life,” I looked up at her, and immediately put my knife and fork down. It seemed like she was really trying hard to get something out. She nodded when she saw I’d done that. “It’s just… not something I’m particularly comfortable with. He’s never mentioned a boyfriend until you, so I never really believed it was something I had to become comfortable with.”

Somewhere across the room, my phone started ringing. Mrs Bodt glanced at me, but I shook my head; whoever it was could wait. I got the feeling she needed to get this out now, or we’d miss the chance. 

So she continued. “And, not that I blame him, but Marco’s never really pushed the whole ‘homosexual’ thing before. Until you, that is. When he brought you round, I was… I was surprised at how close he had become with someone, though I’d only known about it for a few weeks. I understand why he didn’t mention you earlier, but I just… expected him to tell me if there was ever anyone that important in his life,” She was twiddling her fingers. Just like Marco did. “I understand that both you and Marco may not understand what I did, but I hope you understand that I do regret it, and that I will never love Marco any less for loving you.”

I didn’t really have to understand it; it was clear just by her being here, trying to explain herself to me, that she loved her son. And, no matter her feelings about me, that was enough.

“You don’t need to tell him I was here,” she quickly added. “I don’t expect you to try and make me out to be a good–”

“Thursday.”

Taking a deep breath, Mrs Bodt narrowed her eyes. “Sorry?”

“This Thursday I’m being dragged to some company thing for my agency. Marco will be free,” I started on my meal again, not bothering to watch for her reaction. 

“I see…” she said quietly. “Then, perhaps you could tell him I might drop by?”

“I’ll make sure he’s in.” 

The sigh she let out sounded like it was releasing al her worries and fears that had been hovering over her since she arrived. Until that sigh, I hadn’t realised just how terrified she must have been to knock on the door. 

“I imagine you’d be a very strange son-in-law, Mr Kirschtein.”

I nearly choked. 

One minute she was saying I was never going to be good enough for Marco, and then next she was acting like we were engaged? She moved faster than me, Christ!

Trying to hold back a smirk, I looked back at her. “And I imagine you’d be the typical mother-in-law from hell, Mrs Bodt.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And just when I was starting to think I might like you. You disappoint me.”

“Don’t worry, some of my best friends are people who hate my guts.”

She shook her head. “How does my son put up with you?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

The two of us sat for a while longer, saying nothing at all; Mrs Bodt stared around the room from her chair, whilst I finished the dinner she’d brought me, when I was done and carrying the plate to the sink, she stood and picked up her bags. 

“I’ll take my leave then. I hope you enjoyed the food.”

“I did, thanks.”

I saw her to the door, my hands in my pockets since I suddenly felt a little awkward again. She gave me one last nod before turning and starting down the stairs. I waited in the doorway, watching her back, taking in the slightly less tense shoulders…

…and I called out.

“Mrs Bodt?”

She turned. 

“When Marco first told me about you, I told him that there was no way you could be a bad person, and I still stand by that.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Because you raised Marco. And a guy that perfect, could only have been brought up by people who loved him unconditionally.”

She cried as she said thank you.

 

It was well after midnight by the time Marco got back. I was lying curled up in bed – not asleep, just dozing – when I heard the door fumble open and him try to creep in as quietly as possible once he realised the lights were off. That was the funny thing about Marco: no matter how bladdered he was, he was still unbelievably considerate about other people. Of course, _because_ he was drunk, he wasn’t the best at staying quiet. I smiled as I listened to him tripping over more than a few times, and drop his keys – he gave up on finding them. Finally, as he opened the door to our room, I sat up on my elbows and smiled as he tiptoed inside. 

“Shit,” he said as he spotted me looking at him. “I woke you.”

“I was already awake,” I promised. He seemed relieved and went about getting ready for bed without being concerned about noise. “Good night?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Had to send Mina home in a taxi. She was bad.”

“You quite bad yourself,” I pointed out.

“But I don’t _act_ bad when I’m bad, see?”

“Not really…”

He stuck his tongue out at me and headed to the bathroom. I waited, listening to him go about his routine (intact even though he was drunk), and slid across the bed to allow him room when he was done. He grinned widely, shutting the doors and skipping across the room in the dark, before he pounced onto the mattress. I think he was trying to jump onto me, but he missed completely. He pulled me down, snuggling right up to me and nuzzling into my neck, pressing light kisses to my collarbone. And as much as I _really_ wanted to 'celebrate' as he promised, now wasn't really the time... I hated that it wasn't the time...

“Don’t freak out,” I warned as I reached up and started stroking a hand through his hair. 

He tensed a little, but seemed relaxed enough. “What?”

“Your mum stopped by.”

Well, he was relaxed…

The kisses stopped. Hell, I think his _breathing_ stopped. Pulling back, he stared at me with the widest eyes I’ve ever seen: he’d sobered up in about ten milliseconds. 

“What?”

“Your mum stopped by.”

“You sound weirdly ok with that.”

“I am. We shared our opinions of one another, and then she fed me.”

Now Marco just looked scared. “She _fed_ you?” 

“Yeah. Sunday roast leftovers. It was good. Yours is in the fridge,” I was sort of glad Marco was stunned into silence. It meant he wasn’t making me avoid the subject. The humour left my voice, and I started playing with his hair again. “She said you haven’t been talking to her.”

He frowned. “Can you blame me?”

“No. But you shouldn’t be blaming her either.”

“She–”

“She apologised to me. And she wants to make it right with you too,” I told him. “I told her you’d be here on Thursday…”

His face was tight with worry and confliction. I gave him a moment to think before I spoke again. 

“Was I out of line?”

He looked at me and sighed, trailing his fingers up and down my arm. “No… I’m more surprised you survived.”

“Your mother and I made our dislike for each other clear,” I promised with a smirk. “But, we do have one thing in common.”

He groaned. “Are you going to say ‘we both love you’ or something sad like that?”

“Hey, I don’t come out with many good romantic lines, at least let me _try_.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His trailing fingers moved upwards, until the danced along my cheek. He pulled my face close, brushing our lips together softly. 

“I’ll talk to her,” he whispered when he moved back. “Thank you, Jean.”

“Just call me Jeremy Kyle!”

He didn’t appreciate that. 

Thankfully, one difference between Mrs Bodt and her youngest son, is that I can make Marco forgive me with one good kiss. 

Wrapped up in each other, we soon fell asleep.


	22. Playing Off Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean doesn't know how it reached this point, but it did: the final stretch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN A WHOLE YEAR. 
> 
> I wanted to post the final chapter exactly a year after I started this fic, so yeah...

Car engines were wonderful things, and I was quickly coming to the realisation that they started to lull me to sleep an hour or so into any journey. Well, actually, maybe it was the warmth of Marco sitting beside me that was the main cause of my sudden drowsiness. I felt the shoulder beneath my cheek, almost perfectly formed just for me to rest on… Ok, that was probably just Marco being ridiculously sweet and shifting until his shoulder was in a good position for me. Damn idiot and his thoughtfulness. 

I felt the car slowing, and then we were slowly moving forward along the road inch by inch; stopping and starting in ways that made me unbelievably grateful I wasn’t the one having to deal with the clutch. 

“Jean, you might want to wake up,” Marco warned me, hand snaking downwards to wrap around mine. “I can just imagine the headlines. ‘Jean Kirschtein flaunts sleepy-eyes and red cheek indentations on the red carpet!’.”

“How about ‘Marco Bodt spots a gorgeous, figure-hugging suit, with drool on the shoulder’?” I asker, making no move to lift my head. 

“You dare, and I’ll tell the reporters you have a tiny di–”

My head snapped up. “I’m up! I’m up!” 

He grinned that sickening grin that always made me want to stop whatever the fuck I was doing and jump him. Unfortunately, I had a sneaky suspicion the chauffeur wouldn’t appreciate that, no matter how ‘famous’ we were becoming. I made an effort to subdue my ridiculous fucking urges (pun totally intended), as he rubbed my cheek with his palm. 

“A couple more cars until our turn, sirs,” the driver warned us. I felt the first punch of nerves in my gut. 

“Ready for this?” Marco asked, glancing over both himself and me, because he’s worse than my mother at times, and readjusting our ties so they were straight. 

“As long as I’m not shoved next to Jaeger, I can’t see what could go wrong.”

“Well from what Christa was saying, they’ve sat us main five together. So you’ll probably be beside one of us or someone’s date.”

“Oh yeah,” I scoffed. “Because sitting beside Levi or Ymir would be so much better than Jaeger… At least Jaeger isn’t fucking terrifying.”

Marco smacked me across the head… and then immediately brushed his hands through my hair to neaten it up. “Well, maybe you and Eren will bond again after the drinking party tonight. Like last ti–”

My hand was clamped over his mouth before another breath left him. 

“I thought it was agreed that we never speak of _that_ incident again.”

Marco’s eyebrows raised slightly, and when I at last dropped my hand he smiled. “I think you and Eren agreed on that. Myself and Levi, on the other hand, have vowed to retell the story during our wedding speeches.”

The car pulled off slowly once more, and then came to the last stop. Cheers and shouts and mayhem seeped in through the shut windows, and a valet stood at my door, about to open it at any moment. I wasn’t too bothered about the red carpet lined up outside my door, or the barriers that held back rows of fans and excited public, or the reporters and their endless flashing of cameras. I wasn’t even too bothered about looking to see whether Reiner was bursting out of his suit like I had bet Connie he would. All that really mattered was Marco beside me, and the fact he was quickly becoming the colour of a tomato as he realised what he’d just said. 

“Wedding, huh?” I asked, unable to hold back the smirk. “I thought it’s much too early for you to be thinking about that sort of thing.”

Marco was really blushing now. “I-I… well… maybe–”

Both of our doors were opened, and the noise of the crowd made it nearly impossible for Marco to even attempt to finish. He blinked, glancing over my shoulder at the sight ahead, and quickly gave an embarrassed smile before clambering out of his side of the car. Shaking my head at him, I followed suit, and stepped out onto the red carpet. 

The cheer that followed nearly bowled me over, but it sure as hell brought a smile on my face. The theatre towered at the end of the carpet, but the path there was littered with journalists and celebrities (which, though it was weird to think, included us). The crowds at the barriers were waving and shaking signs and posters in the air above them, shouting names and screaming every time someone walked by – whether they were famous or not. In the distance, I saw Christa surrounded by cameras, in a stunning golden dress (yes, even I can appreciate a fucking pretty dress when I see one), and smiling like the billions of pounds she probably was actually worth. Reiner was being interviewed (and yes, he was popping out of his suit – the jacket didn’t button, and the shirt buttons were clearly a little stretched… damn his muscles), and an awkward looking boyfriend was hovering a few steps away. I couldn’t see Levi, but Eren was standing taking a photo with a bunch of screaming fangirls… How he got fangirls, I’ll never fucking know. There were other familiar faces too: Pixis was chatting with a newspaper person, Petra was greeting a few celebrities that had been invited as guests (Holy fucking hell, was that Magnolia-Church? The fucking comedy duo? Well, I was about to wet myself like an excited schoolboy).

Just as a gang of journalists approached, Marco appeared by my side, giving the fans shouting out to him a typical angelic smile and wave. The car was pulling away, and some crew member motioned us to move forward to allow the next person to get out. Marco was still waving, so I placed my hand on the small of his back and started heading forward. The journalists went wild – snapping pictures at every angle of this apparently super intimate moment (there are public pictures of me tonguing Marco… surely they got the message that we’re pretty intimate?) – but we just kept heading forward. 

As we walked, my hand may or may not have slid round a little, until my hand was less on his back and more around his waist. I felt him tensing slightly next to me, and there was a definite shake of his head (though there was also a smile there). As a journalist beckoned us forward, begging us for a brief interview, we paused and I turned to Marco, leaning close until my lips were at his ear. 

“We do have a habit of moving pretty fast, huh?” 

Marco blinked, and continued looking at me in confusion as I stepped away from him over to the journalists. The number of people shouting my name at once made me feel a little lost, but eventually I managed to look directly at one young woman and asked “Yes?”

“Are you excited for tonight, Jean?” she asked, and a second later about five microphones were shoved under my chin. 

“Well,” I began, forcing myself to clear my head of Marco (he seemed to be talking to someone else on the other side of the carpet). “I’m a bit nervous as to how I look on the big-screen in HD, but I’m hoping the make-up guys did their job good.”

“If the posters are anything to go by, I’m sure you’ll look fabulous!” the woman reassured me. “Now, I can’t _not_ ask about you and the lovely Mr Bodt over there. Everyone has been very non-committal about the exact stance of your relationship. Can we not have a bit of an explanation?” 

I inwardly groaned – Hanji had warned me this would come up. I should probably just be relieved it wasn’t the first question. Still, I smiled. Marco and I had been prepared… and by ‘prepared’, I mean, we talked and agreed we don’t really care about people knowing. 

“I seem to recall _Spice_ magazine had all the answers to that?” I pointed out, cocking an eyebrow and wondering if anyone from Spice was in the crowd today. The fans nearby who could hear gave an excited whoop. 

“Are we to assume you and Marco are in a long-term relationship then?” Another reporter chimed in excitedly. 

I grimaced. “I really hope people aren’t assuming that I’ll happily make-out with all of my co-stars. I mean, I’m sure Reiner and Christa are very nice, but Eren’s a little…”

That cracked a laugh at least. As I glanced behind me, Marco was obviously done talking and was starting to carry on – extremely slowly and looking my way to see if I was finished too. I was barely listening to the shouted questions of the rabble of journalists, so when I turned back I just shot them a smile and said I better move on so to “not hog all the fame, even if my face deserves it”.

Marco seemed more than a little relieved when I approached. He fell into step beside me, heading up further. “I swear most of these reporters don’t actually care about the movie,” he muttered through a forced smile. 

“Oh? My journalist had the decency to at least ask one question about the night before diving straight into ‘Are you shagging Bodt?’.”

“God, please tell me you’re paraphrasing.”

“I’m saying what they were _really_ asking.”

At the photo station I stepped back, signing a few things for fans whilst Marco had his photo taken alone, before we switched places. We hadn’t even planned the movement, but after all this time together I swear we had formed some sort of psychic link. (Marco said we weren’t, and that I should stop saying that I’d sent him a message through the bond to say I had used the last of the milk). 

Just as I was about to step away, the photographer shouted that they wanted one of us together – which may have just been an excuse for more photos to ‘prove the relationship’ or whatever the magazines were trying to do recently, but I was more than happy to stand by his side as the lights continued to flash around us. Hell, it was easier to smile when Marco was there. 

Some of the staff working at the theatre told us we had to head in soon, and though I was pretty glad to get out of the spotlight (those girls can really scream), there was definitely an energy you felt when you were walking that red carpet that dimmed once you stepped inside. There was no shortage of celebrities and fellow cast and crew members of the movie around inside, but perhaps the loss of the fans that were outside, giving us that reassurance of their support, made it feel a little weird to be here. I mean, without the fans, it sort of felt like we were a bunch of stuck-up arseholes all gathering to pat ourselves on the back for our movie… 

As Marco and I were grabbing drinks, we were quickly joined by a fuckface and his terrifying, short-ass boyfriend at the bar. Eren punched me in the shoulder. “How come I’m not the one with a romance scandal plastered across the press, and yet more than half of the questions I got on the carpet were about my potential love life?”

Marco laughed beside me. “Hey, me and Jean _only_ had love life questions.”

Eren opened his mouth to retort, but apparently decided that was a fair enough argument and stayed silent. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I ask you to please make your way into the theatre for the premiere.” 

The staff member was grinning as he gave the announcement, and opened the double doors that led into the main room of the cinema that had the privilege of showing the first ever screening of Humanity’s Last Hope. It was… terrifying, basically. Watching all these people start to filter into the room, ready and waiting to see my movie. 

Ok, not _my_ movie, but it sort of felt like it was partly mine. 

Eren waggled his eyebrows at me – looking like a puppy that was only just managing to control its excitement and stop itself from weeing all over the floor – and Levi clapped both Marco and I on the back to show his support in his own weird and painful way. Ah the two of them walked ahead, I swear I saw Levi’s fingers brush ever so slightly against Eren’s hip to direct him. 

An arm snaked through mine, and Marco smiled at me. “Shall we?”

My innards starting knotting together, making the drink in my hand suddenly very off-putting, so I put it back down on the bar behind me. Marco gave me a squeeze, his body already warming and calming me a little. And just like that, we were stepping forward. 

The theatre room was bigger than most cinemas, and the chairs were a luscious red velvet (or at least some sort of fancy material) that made the room immediately look like it was fit for royalty. People were filling their seats, directed by staff who had a list of the seating arrangements. Honestly, I did have to wonder why there was a seating plan at the premiere – we weren’t in school – but Hanji told me to stop questioning the way things were done. 

We didn’t even need to give our names when it was our turn to be seated, the girl bit her lip to try and control the size of her smile when she saw us, and turned to saw our seats were reserved closer to the front. We probably didn’t even need her directions anyway, seeing as a second later Reiner was on his feet calling us over to a row where he, Christa, and Eren were sitting – as Marco and I had guessed, all their dates were there too. 

“The gay club’s together!” Reiner cheered when we got to the row and started sliding in towards them. Christa gave him a light tap of the arm, telling him to not shout such things out, but luckily no one was really paying attention to us anyway – the whole room was talking amongst itself.

“Ugh,” Eren said as I sat beside him. 

“Likewise,” I muttered, before snatching his drink and taking a swig – more to piss him off than because I was thirsty. Levi and Marco rolled their eyes, and Marco successfully distracted me from irritating Eren further by reaching out to grab my hand. 

The screen was currently covered by a curtain, and Pixis and Petra were hovering around on the stage in front of it to give some sort of speech before it started. 

Marco’s thumb stroked across the back of my hand. “Did you book a taxi for after the party?”

“Nah,” I said. “Hanji said the hotel will call for taxis as we need them. We don’t know when we’re heading off anyway.”

“Ah, ok. But…” Marco lowered his voice, leaning closer to me and keeping his eyes fixed on our entwined hands. “We’re not staying out… _too_ late, right? I mean… we should get a chance to, um, celebrate alone.”

_Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes._

“Well, I guess we can slip away to avoid me getting drunk again,” I shrugged. 

Marco’s fingers tightened around my own, his eyes glanced up towards me and I could see exactly what he was trying to say. 

_‘Hells yeah we gonna fuck.’_

After a few moments, Marco had to pinch me to make me wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. 

With two sharp claps that resounded around the room, everyone fell silent; eyes training to the front as Pixis took up centre stage, Petra standing patiently beside him. He smiled, causing even more creases to appear around his eyes, as he glanced around at the audience. 

“I won’t stand here and witter on like the old man I am, but I will say it’s been an honour working on this film. I had the best crew under me, and we wouldn’t have been here tonight if it weren’t for them. Especially this lady beside me,” He motioned to Petra, and she blushed as the room burst into a brief round of applause for her. Pixis seemed proud to force the attention over, and waited for everyone to quiet down before continuing. “Because she was the one who actually made me work. A thank you to the cast as well. I can say I’ve never worked with a newer and more promising cast of actors, even if they did give me something of a sickening bill during our last get together,” Eren and I sunk further into our seats as the room laughed. Pixis winked and clapped his hands together. “Well. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Another round of applause followed as Pixis and Petra gave little bows and left the stage to take their seats. The background noise of chatter filled the room again, but dimmer out just as quickly as the lights did. As the curtain lifted up, Marco shifted closer, squeezing my hand as the black screen was revealed. 

I won’t be so stuck-up as to say Humanity’s Last Hope changed my life… but it would be stupid to say that it didn’t make an impact. Hell, take away the publicity and the chance to work with some of the biggest names in the industry, and star in a movie that was huge before the first commercial even aired, and you’ll still be left with an experience that was… life-changing. 

I know I just said I wouldn’t call it that, but work with me here. 

I managed to form some sort of comradeship with Jaeger, of all people. I managed to make friends with a national sweetheart and someone built like a rock (quiet, that’s been my dream since I was 5). And then I managed to meet the world’s most perfect guy: someone I swear was created out of fucking stardust by angels or some equally as clichéd shite, because seriously, what sort of normal human could possibly be as amazing as Marco Bodt, and _still_ love me back? Never mind just love me back, I snagged him up as a full time boyfriend, moved in with him, had my first celebrity scandal with him, _and_ nabbed a mother-in-law from hell. 

Could I call her a mother-in-law yet?

I glanced over at Marco, and that psychic link I mentioned earlier? He immediately looked over at me too. His face lit up and he shifted even closer – until even the arm of the chair couldn’t really stop us from being pressed against one another. Even without words, I could still see his ‘I love you’ written plainly across his face. 

Yeah, I’m going to call her a mother-in-law.

It did also make my parents interested in sexuality to a rather uncomfortable degree, but let’s put that aside.

The point is that this film had helped me find this. This perfect person to get me to this perfect point in life, and as the screen lit up to light, I thought back to the box I’d hidden away in the fruit bowl in Sasha and Connie’s house and decided I might have to make use of it sooner than I’d planned. 

As the title credits of Humanity’s Last Hope begun, I lifted Marco Bodt’s hand to my lips and kissed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ramble time! ~~because i'm traumatised and confused that this is over?~~
> 
> I can't thank everyone enough for reading and all your support for this silly fic, I'm so grateful you guys enjoyed it, and you all deserve medals for putting up with me for this long. POH was like my first proper fic I was doing, and the fact I've now officially completed it is both terrifying and sort of sad.  
> Not too sure what to do with myself now ~~update your other fics you lazy idiot~~
> 
> But yeah, thank you guys so much! It's been a wild ride! Much love!
> 
> As always, my tumblr is [freckledbodty](http://freckledbodty.tumblr.com).  
> Thanks again, and ta ta!

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins Jean's tale of woe... or romance, whatever you want to call it. 
> 
> (Also, I can't think up movie names, so ssshhhhh)


End file.
